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Nestor David Armas

(02/22/1984)

An Angel


I thought you were
An angel,
Come to set me free
But you had not the key,
To let me out my prison,
I thought you had
Brought me light
Into the darkness I reside,
But I'm still lying here
Alone in the cold
Counting my bones
Thin I have become
For this hunger
I cannot relieve;
This thirst constant
For the sun to shine,
Blood run dry
From my cracked lips,
A feather falls
From your wings;
I hold it against me,
Hope that maybe
I am wrong and
You'll come back...

Submitted: Sunday, December 23, 2012
Edited: Monday, December 24, 2012

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