Astrael

My poor poor sorrowful heart,
how you cry to me.
To be torn, battered and broken apart,
to mend in an eternity.
I wish I could sit and cry with you,
but my tears have long since dried.
So instead I cradle you,
when I know that you have cried.
Surrounded by white walls knowing I'm not,
knowing I AM NOT insane.
Looking through boxes long forgot,
and memories long ingrained.
The heartache, the pain, the anger and more,
because of him, I know it's true.
and in my mind, I close all doors,
trying not to let him through.
"medaling Woman" he calls to me,
"pathetic." I reply,
The ruined life that nearly kissed me,
the life that he calls a lie.
May I quote a simple thing,
that stems all my distress,
you poor excuse for a human being,
you've made MORE than just a mess!
Astrael the sorrowful,
my heart, my soul, me,
Danuel, my saving grace,
my precious light run free,
that opened these cracks and showed to you.
The words that I so feebly wrote,
in the hopes you'll understand,
the words that I so desperately spoke.
Pathetic you, and here is why,
you cannot shut your mouth.
I can see you'll make another cry,
and send them falling south.
Astrael my crying heart,
who weeps for the insane,
who knows you will tear them apart,
to me, you did the same.