Deliverance from the Wicked

The wicked hath no path;
in the sight of angels,
they crackle like dry wood in fire.

Their path is laid only by tongue;
spitting snares like a web.
The wickedness charms
and waits to strike;
you can feel it in the air.

Although snare and bite and charm,
and trick and bait disarm;
my cloak is hidden,
and what you cannot see cannot be moved;
cannot be penetrated or changed.

Know the wicked hath no path
in the way of the truth,
it also hath no lie,
that can't be seen or heard;
to the angel, all is seeable.

The trick of the wicked,
is to trap the angels;
to maul their wings,
to blot out their vision of light,
to make them lose consciousness of the feeling of wind.

It is with an uncertain spirit,
could then an angel be disturbed;
like a wounded man,
the angel can be dragged down,
to almost human levels.
But by the pit of a heart,
does flow the light of angels;
and the love of that heart,
is the endurance against the wicked,
and the consciousness of a soul,
in love with something pure.