Ace Of Black Hearts (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

Sometimes what we love the most will never see the light.
Not in a way most people understand.
A occasional midnight cry that is only heard through words.
A plea for help and understanding.
A calm steady hand in need of a little bit of mending.

That angel still whispers to me on a scarce night.
One where the wind blows a certain way.
As prayer for a better day.
With the stars glistening under the twilight.
And the flames burning bright.
I don't need her.

When the stars dim and the fire fissile out.
When the darkness engulfs my own since of being.
She is my angel and she is always there waiting.