The Death Of The Dream


Once I gazed into the night ...
the moon lit up the sky ...
the air so cold ... the sky so bright ...
I heard an angel cry.

Her wings were torn ...
her heart it bled ...
she could barely fly ...
I asked her of the tears she shed ...
she answered, "Tonight I die".

She said, "In this age of decadence there is no subtle pain ...
all the prayers go unanswered ... all the tears in vain".
I learned one thing that starry night ...
this angel wept for me ...
and although she died within my arms, in my heart she'll always be.





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Submitted by the Author & Used by Permission