The Angel Waits

Unconscious,
yet holding back a scream.
Twisted sorrow
lies evident in the
regretful eyes of the damned.
Longing shields
the torturous pain
yet the emotion
cannot hide from fire.
Burning confusion,
broken walls of hope
crashing down
hiding the lies under
shards of regret.
Liquid tears
falling in desperation.
Angels lying still
yet not quite dead.
The sunlight
breaks through on a
jagged path leading
nowhere.
Watching suicide play
out in a deadly game.
of chance.
An impasse
created by the screaming
drowning my soul
fighting against a last breath,
a last chance to win
the game of decision.
The blood streaming in a
single current,
streaking and surging
until all that’s
lost is found charred by fate.
Holding on to the anger
deep within,
keeping it alive burning
only to hold on to
something.
Only to ignore the pain
driving along
the broken stream of regret.
Burning up the lies of fate,
turned against
the hollow emptiness,
waiting for the signal
to run away.
Drops of ruby blood
mocking the innocence
of the guilty.
Slowly watching the fire
burn out,
screaming desperation
as the imaginary
withers to a death
deserved by the angel.
Slowly shifting out
of touch,
waiting to feel
the relentless pulse
of freedom.
Deceiving fate
just to fly free
as the world was meant to.
Surrounded by defense
waiting for the darkness
to take over.
As the bloody tears
consume
the weak,
waiting for a slash of crimson blood
to splatter the
icy chains binding fate.
Nightmares collide with reality,
until they are one.
The pale moon casts
an alabaster shine
upon the tears that glitter
like liquid diamonds.
Broken hope
clogged against the relentless
flow of blood.
Only then
a troubled soul is
left to plead,
begging for a
moment of freedom.
But yet,
something keeps
the angel
waiting,
alone,
by a grave.