An ever level window hangs before those eyes.
Even though a dagger seems to always be stuck against your skin
You seem to be able to laugh through the burden of those scarred arms.
Like a street lamp, in a black and singular acceptance,
You bring light with a stereo-horror aura.
But upon approach it is confirmed that this is the only lit ground to walk.
However the lamp seems content with the moon, mistress mystery.
So sky bound, he flies away with angel wings of ash,
Leaving only the wonder will he remember the gravity of humanity.
Author notes
This is a poem i wrote one day when i wanted to express how i feel about my friends...so i wrote several about several...this is not the first draft and it has been slightly altered to stand alone without having to know the references...but anyway...it is more of just a description poetically then a poem.
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