Angel

[FatalBanana]

*I wrote this an extremely long time ago I apologize for any errors this may contain*

Eyes sown shut
By a life that's not what he dreampt it would be
Falling in and out of the arms
Of past relationships
Picked up from a frying pan
And thrown into hell itself
Damned to walk the roads alone
A hero brought down to his knees
Doomed to die alone
A shapeless mind
Overpowered by the things that do not matter
And forsaken by everyone
Especially himself
Plagued by rain clouds and lightning
A soul to be pissed down a drain

In between existence and death
He feels a presence sprint towards him
Still blind and asleep
He can't see her face
But can feel her aura
And read her thoughts...
She's beautiful...
But there's a darkness in this beauty
A mighty but fragile self
If not handled delicately
A simple touch or slight of hand
Could shatter this being
And leave nothing but feathers
From wings crafted by god himself

She places her lips on his forehead
A powerful strength is cast over him
The yarn around his eyes gets severed
His lids are unglued and open slowly
To brightness that's too heavy to keep them alive for long
An electric sunrise that sends pulses down his spine
Energized and awaken He squints to see the face of his savior
The image is something men die to see
An intoxicating visual
a drug of choice
Chosen by the most heartbroken of addicts

She offers him her hand
Only the most hopeless of fools would not take it
The touch of her skin
It feels...forgiving
You gaze into her eyes
It's like a mirror
A mirror that shatters
Piercing the periphery
Breaking the loudest of silences
Seeing shards of himself
Laying in perfect formation
On the cold black of the pavement
A sharp and painful sight
He sees himself as broken
Beyond repair and as hopeless
As the shards of glass
Spilled out before him
He breathes in deeply
Trying hard to counteract
The unliftable pressure placed on his chest

She lifts him up from the blood stained concrete
Without effort without a pause in breath
He rises to his feet
Regaining his balance and coming to level With his angel
She opens her mouth to speak
Afraid and unaware
He fears the voice of this god will be too powerful
That it will move mountains and shatter eardrums
And send this man back to his knees
But he couldn't be more wrong

The rhapsodic sound that exits her mouth
Was the most amazing and entrancing of all
As the waves move flawlessly through the air
And slowly into his ear
It was enough to steal the breath out of his lungs
Once more
Focusing on the sound he almost forgets to listen
The sirens song sang softly
"I missed you"
Surpassing all other thinking up till now
He's surprised and shocked
The thoughts that now plagued his brain
Was that of questions
have I met this beauty before?
Have I seen her?
Has she seen me?
Is any of this real?
Snapping to reality memories come rushing
Like feral waves to his mind
he realizes what magnificence
Stands before him
And he answered his own queries
Yes to all was the final outcome
She has controlled his past and shaped his future
She left for so long but now she's back
A troublesome conclusion
He's left with even more questions than before
But she says simply
The questions don't matter
As she takes his hand and leads
him to oblivion

[Sweet Pea]

you are so talanted i wish i had the way with words that you do... your poetry makes me feel and thats what i think is the most important part of poetry to make the reader feel through your words... writing is different from talk. when people listen to talk they hear the speakers tone of voice. they look at the speakers eyes. they observe the movements of the speakers face and hands, which helps them to understand what the speaker means. the listener can question and reply and interupt. the speaker can chande there mind and say so, they can stop and start and huff and puff. and all this helps to make the meaning. but in writeing there is no voice to listen to, no eyes to exchange looks, no movements of the face and hands and body to assist the words. no interuptions are possible, no questions can be answered. there are only these strange shapes as old as eve and as new as tomorrows baby, and to me words are beautiful and glorious.

[FatalBanana]

you are so talanted i wish i had the way with words that you do... your poetry makes me feel and thats what i think is the most important part of poetry to make the reader feel through your words... writing is different from talk. when people listen to talk they hear the speakers tone of voice. they look at the speakers eyes. they observe the movements of the speakers face and hands, which helps them to understand what the speaker means. the listener can question and reply and interupt. the speaker can chande there mind and say so, they can stop and start and huff and puff. and all this helps to make the meaning. but in writeing there is no voice to listen to, no eyes to exchange looks, no movements of the face and hands and body to assist the words. no interuptions are possible, no questions can be answered. there are only these strange shapes as old as eve and as new as tomorrows baby, and to me words are beautiful and glorious.

wow that sounded like a poem within itself but I totally agree with you, to me written words can be more effective and powerful then any actual spoken conversation and I enjoy trying to convey that. But words are just words without the reader and I think that being able to read any kind of art seeing past the literal intentions and drawing out what the artist is trying to get across is a talent all in its own.

[Sweet Pea]

thats exactly how i feel =D