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The dark angel stopped at the golden gate,

a little too late,

and he knew he should wait,

God deliberately punished him

by delaying to answer,

high above on the mountain peaks,

cold, yet sweat rolled down his cheeks,

his movement was rude,

the  angel was shrewd,

now shining with relief,

moment of grief,

God allowed him passage,

because he felt his belief,

his voice had a buzzing sound,

his wings dragged on the ground,

and he threw himself down,

but never with a sting of a bee,

God could sense his arrogance,

but forgiven as far as he could see.