Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always driven, always somber,
frozen here,
waiting.
Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my darkened mood.
A reflection on an angel’s face alums over me,
as I raise my head, now submitting to
this impassive truth.
makes my head to roll in thoughts
to ponder in darkness and in passing of time
as always the Angel’s have left me to my own decor.
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always driven, always somber,
frozen here,
waiting.
Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my darkened mood.
A reflection on an angel’s face alums over me,
as I raise my head, now submitting to
this impassive truth.
makes my head to roll in thoughts
to ponder in darkness and in passing of time
as always the Angel’s have left me to my own decor.