Angel’s Sonnet

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Lo, an Angel lies before me wounded;

Her delicate shell broken and ruined.

How shall one find her heart to hold?

Would she ever trust, truth to be told?


Now I; scarred beyond Mercy’s desire,

Peer deep into the lenses of her ghost;

A moment, celebrating upon icy fires,

Connecting severed dreams; a toast!


Behold! A taste of her fragrant breath,

A chill traces along my spine’s depth;

My chest swelling against her breast,

Her wings accept, wraps our breadth!


Fly? She must choose to stay or break,

Leave cold or touch thee; once awake!

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