The prophet, dumbfounded,
Struggled to boast
Words proper to quantify
The foreign host
Two circuits like fire
Four faced men
Stiff and yet flying
Skin peppered with eyes
Their twisted appearances
Oft humbled the pen,
at a loss for words
Struggled to understand
Moving volumes
Flesh couldn't see
Looked like fire, or lions
Talking horns and dragons
The Seraph, burning one,
The serpent, winged man
Six winged and hidden
A tangle of limbs
Whom christened many prophets
Appeared in the World
To confuse and terrify
Men of faith and Word
Yet, with features occult
And forms indiscernable
They can't even look at
The Father they sleep before
Archangels and demons
Humans cannot describe
But Whom they dare not look upon
Loves you and I
The elders before Him
Hung heads while they worship
The four beasts before Him
Stand guard with backs turned
The mystery of man,
The angels and host,
Dreads the figure of God
In whose embrace do we boast
The holy ark of God
A touch or a look
Obliterates souls
And sears flesh as venom
This burning presence
Holy place and fire
Angels can't bear to behold
Lives.in my heart
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