frozen angel

The statue of an angel, still in time,

her stone eyes fixed upon death.

Her parted lips beckon words never said,

to grace her frozen breath.

Still wings spread eternally

for a sacred flight never taken.

Her welcoming, cold hands

are now sadly godforsaken.

Her only love is a lonely man

who sadly prays at her feet.

She hopes for the day

He will come and pray

and thier lonely souls will meet.

"My angel," he says as he kneels to the ground,

"my angle, please, heed these words I say;"

My life is growing darker, my angel,

each and every day.

I want to bask in the sun, my love,

not wallow in the night.

Please, my angel, show me love,

help me see the light."

She wishes she could help him,

to beesech to god above,

To help his godforsaken life,

to adorn him with her love.

The icy moon set from the sky,

and so began the day.

Something seemed wrong,

Something was gone,

the man had not come to pray.

The angel remained still,

bereft of her only love.

She looked sadly to the sky,

to her only god above.

The days passed slowly for the frozen angel,

her existance became bittersweet.

Not long after, to her delight,

Just before the sallow fall of night,

the man was buried at her feet.