My Angel

Crappy poem that doesn't flow.

I sit upon a lonely grave And read the name over again.              It’s not surprising, yet it is I don’t remember what happened then -              When my body was broken And my soul separated;              It isn’t too shocking, As I was so hated.              But just as I’m sitting here, Wondering why I died,              I hear a noise right next to me; A man is standing by my side              His hair was silver and lovely; His skin was fragile and pale;              I was trying to speak but attempting Was seeming to have no avail              He looked down at me, giving me comfort, And he beckoned for me to then stand;              And I did so – I dared not defy him – So he smiled and he grabbed my hand.              And my back then did seem to explode With two blinding white angel wings;              As I gazed at him he was still smiling And my mind was wiped blank of all things.              Still holding my hand, his grip tightened, And we soon were both flying together.              As his angel lips spoke my name softly I hoped this would go on forever.

Author's Note

Ignore the fact that it doesn't flow in the slightest. Or, it does somewhat, but not as much as I would like.