Dusk falls like angel wings torn and drifting;
Cold like the heart that embraces me.
He comes, my Azrael,
The soft kiss of sleep touches my face.
He lures me from my earthly bed
Where upon my form lies dead
From the wound inflicted by one I loved.
Gun smoke rises by my blank stare.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 5:32 PM UTC
Dusk falls like angel wings torn and drifting;
Cold like the heart that embraces me.
He comes, my Azrael,
The soft kiss of sleep touches my face.
He lures me from my earthly bed
Where upon my form lies dead
From the wound inflicted by one I loved.
Gun smoke rises by my blank stare.