Under bands of burnt bridges a young child cannot understand
A mind wrapped on stains of reality
On the heels that walk the beautiful lands of Afghanistan.
Holding the soles of those that now fill a ghost's foot mold
Is the picture of a half adult with a newly orphaned child pose
I suppose it was the lowlight of her year
Covering dark words of fear.
She grows up only to hope that one day she could suspend
The ringing in her ears
To quiet her demons her thoughts drift to the otherworld
With the alphabet addressed:
Dear Mother, Dear Father,
I wish the world knew you before the world threw you
Off the world's edge
I wish they heard your pledge
Of your peaceful desires
They really would admire
How your pears for cheeks could calm any fire.
You said foreign militiamen were misunderstood
I think now they're colorblind
Mixing the bad with the good.
I never heard a pow repeat so fast.
I feel they were ending people
Seeing only Freddy Cougar masks.
Even holy people have holy evils
Passed to their future by their pasts.
When my eyes seek my heart weeps
Yet my pen is burdened with this task
So I ask upon my angels
What and where is the world's angles?
Three souls tangled uncontrolled, what a mess.
With this press my heart and my hand are possessed.
And now new light lays under this vessels' unanswered chest.
I admit I don't have the answers
Humans love war and it spreads like a cancer.
Up from my bed I can see your head
Suck in your teardrops
Please not weep for the dead
For he who not fears, tames monsters instead.
Rewriting wrongs leads you away from suffering
Somethings are infinitely nothing
Somethings are simply one thing
My time here's expanded,
Yours comes with an age
I continue even after the last words on your last page
Listen to others, not all angels' wings show.
Now I must bid you adieu
My paper titled "True" for archangel Gabriel is due
It's two in the morning,
How did my pen arrive here?
That voice is now waning away from my ear.
So abduct me again and duct tape me to you
Without angelic words I have not a clue.
15 verses leave 52 questions.
I know I wrote them
But how the fuck did it happen.
My mind stays confined to these cherubim lines,
Dazed just like drinking wine for some time.
This letter of mine has been kissed by my watcher.
Now I can rest in the arms of my holder.
I am the voice that lingers over your shoulders.
A voice that shall mend is the voice of a friend
Angels are close just look from within.
So may my young one learn from the end,
When the world has been bent, let letters fill up the dents.