Angst time called the savior,
armed and ready for seduction.
His aloof reason for defense
was hidden within his cloak.
The hour was full of saturnine,
his posture rendering him with grace.
It allowed the advantage of such a mislead appearance.
His battle was the of the local regime;
to disarm the current corruption.
The savior called upon beloved Cassandra
who beheld amazing finesse.
Her lips of passion were the hours craving,
in hope to rid the diabolical sin.
The hierarchy had shackled her,
and possessed her.
Now it came time to free her soul,
to say goodnight to the benighted.
The savior drew his canine sword,
and chastised the wretched men.
His callow ways paid way unto the end,
he had not failed with shame.
The crimson shed was a blessing to all,
that suffered angst from brazen men.
It was the apathy that sent them
with cruel damnation.
A simple end to the amoral cold,
made it right to feel again.
In the end the antipodes were found again;
This time with stare gazing sin,
and collided with grace.
The blessed Cassandra bleeds a kiss
to the one she was beholden.
The sonata’s played and soprano’s sang,
for the two worlds had fallen as one.
The vagabond found his domain,
and the world said goodnight.