Angels whisper secrets on the wind,
Barely sensed, but by the sinned.
In these endless nights of late.
Sifting through spirit skinned,
Seeking paths to heavens’ gate,
Brushing our eyes of glass, froze,
In the evenings as we doze.
Reinforcing haunts of thought,
In embrace of what’s forgot.
Comfort lit-star shows…
Hence, gone, and not.
Begging mercy for souls tonight,
On wings of angels’ flight.
As we softly rest weak bones,
Gently as wind music drones,
And settles within ears light…
“Sinned are thee”, where love unowns.
Flagrant transgressions made,
We shed on face to never fade.
And lo’ the angelic-tenants,
Of gloried sight and fertile scents,
Soar o’er field and glade.
Longing for heart-lands dense.
But few are we who grow no life,
No trees branched to the afterlife.
We close our eyes at night to pray,
Knowing our sins are bound to stay.
For the moon so crisply rife,
Shines in our hearts of gray.
Shameful existence of…
Supplications to above.
Seraphs celestially abide.
Not near we mortals a-died,
Unable for to have love…and..
E’er reach Zions’ reside,
On angels flown in skies above.
K. Aldaya, 8/27/05
Picture: “Flying Angel” by NaJae-Crazy on Deviant Art; http://najae-crazy.deviantart.com/art/Flying-Angel-345515496