This day the angels failed to spread their wings,

this night the stars fade to black.

Morning will come with no indication,

no hint of salvation.

This day the birds had no song to sing,

this night prayers whispered toward Heaven fell back.

And Morning, she slipped past,

the echo of a laugh.

This day for our martyrs.

This day for our sinners.

This day for our lovers.

This day for our haters.

This day that the Lord has made,

let us rejoice and be glad in it.

This day that love has no name,

Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Let us rejoice and be glad in it. This day, the angels

failed.

This is a poem I wrote as an exercise many, many years ago.