My Dark Angel
is always near.
Never hearing;
never leaving.
Her hand approaches
from out the grey;
touching and caressing
in ghostly dreams.
So I sit and wait in my
outcast thoughts;
never resting;
never seeing
my Dark Angel
of haunted visions.
My Dark Angel
is always near.
I have tried to get
rid of her
but she lingers.
She comes forth from
out the shadows;
never hearing,
never leaving.
So I sit and wait in drunken
loneliness, waiting for the light
to come and my dreams to fade;
and then my Dark Angel
will finally
be gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem