My Arch Angel

Written June 30th 2004.

Restless yet sleepy, In the quiet of the night
Dead, Lingering Silence Encompassing every form
My mind drifts away as shadows dace on the walls
Eerily moving building to building. I stand alone, in the center of nothing.
Mist comes in rapidly, Scaring off the shades
From the gentle smoke, A dark mass emerges
Stumbling, hurt, Injured somehow. Air Denser than water
Keeps me from aiding him. So I watch helplessly
Then he wanders over to me. Attempting to see his face,
I beckon him nearer. This is a beautiful creature.
He is all too familiar. MY gut wrenches, tightens, turns
Could this really be my Fallen Angel? My precious little Demon?
Tenderly I stroke his wings... Glossy feathers of the darkest black,
Silky soft to the touch. Casually moving closer, slowly progressing
Placing my hand under his chin, I pull his face up to meet mine.
Drawing his eyes up from the ground, I notice he's shed tears; a depressing sight.
To look into the eyes of a natural born angel and experience a multitude of sadness.
Despair beyond words or expression Is trapped in those bottomless gems.
I caress his face to dry a few tears, then run my fingers through his ebony hair.
A masterful creation is right in front of me and I can think about is Cruelty!
The Icy shard he once used to pierce the flesh of my heart.
Now it bleeds for him... I can not say he is forgiven!
My hands stops smoothing his hair, Abruptly I yank his head back by the roots.
Fear overcomes his eyes, Only for a fraction of a second.
He hides his fear as well as he hides his evil, but I have found him out.
Subconciously I decide to help him heal. Under lock and key he will be,
My demon was once lost to me, but he shall never again disappear.
Placing shackles around his ankles and chains around his wrists,
I know his spirit is already broken. He is mine now. All mine. And mine Alone.
When he does heal, he will still be mine. He will never again be in Satan's clutches!
I will protect my Fallen Angel, My dark and mysterious Love.
I shall hold his close, But never let him too near.
To allow him in again would be a Grave mistake.
In this same night I come to him bringing food, water, and ointment.
"My plans for you are not yet complete." He merely stares at my feet as I approach.
"Why so silent?" I come in contact with his wing. He looks up slowly, afraid of what he may see.
I draw lines across his forehead with my fingertips. Then push his Long hair back, away from his face.
I trace his features, gently caressing his skin, slowly circling until I cross his lips.
In his eyes I fell his inner flame, and the burn from anger, the burn of defeat.
So slowly that no motion is detected both of us move ever closer, too close.
I am warmly wrapped in his wings, our lips contact in a passionate kiss.
The jolt of energy shakes my body, wakes my mind and I see it was an illusion.
His image still taunts me on lonely nights. Only to desert me in this sleepless solitude.