The Seraphim does fly in lofty skies
the scream is heard in clouds of ebony.
A gentle balmy rain is licking burns
from such a fire fierce it ate the tongue.
Forgotten Prince on his last Holy run,
Oh he is lost to mortal land of life,
Begot of sin for Seraphim did purge
the Prince of faulty failure against fate.
Nepenthe on his soul applied to cure
the of sin, a fire burned to cleanse
The Prince. He burned and charred as his low soul
did wash away in ebony-soft rain.
Such death did take his soul from mortal land
Nepenthe fire burned him free of us.
This was my prompt from dogs for the contest. I just failed to do it in time. My words were Seraphim, Ebony, Nepenthe, and Balm. I didn't actually enter in the competition because I did it late. -.o Lastly, I was going for Iambic Pentameter and a sonnet line number, but not the rhyme sceme.)