Can an angel be of leather hide?
Or does divine lend exclusive path?
Why shan't an angel brave the raging tide?
And feel poverty's purgatory wrath.
To so asses the 'twining shades of light,
That weave as plaits throughout our fleshy forms.
Let her feel passion in the humid night.
But also know the sting of love struck storms.
The aristoricy ne'er rightly rules,
When their ranks are all but haughty lords.
Indifference is the tainted food of fools.
While benevolent to its own accords.
The true and endless brand of human race,
(Though so few healthy attributes remain),
Is the immunity to pearly grace.
And the constancy of our periled strain.
If ever an angel is to bring aid,
Earth's flawless savoiur must be true Earth-made
