Paper Angel

tear my mind and rend my soul
light dancing feet 'round the maypole
tired little troubles, dingy and gray
carve a niche in worlds of clay

screaming furies of heaven above
promises of lust, hate, and love
tortured contours eased in place
mar the eternity of the face

And oft forgotten the remembered past
speaks of what has been, come at last
precious gold of new found leaf
innocent of it's coming grief

unspoiled growth, unshattered dreams
what isn't is, or so it seems
and through it all, mind to mind,
is passed the creation of it's kind