quarta-feira, 2 de março de 2011

For My Fallen Angel


As I draw up my breath
And silver fills my eyes
I kiss her still
For she will never rise


On my weak body 
Lays her dying hand
Through those meadows of Heaven
Where we ran


Like a thief in the night
The wind blows so light
It wars with my tears
That won't dry for many years


"Love's golden arrow
Ather should have fled
And not Death's ebon dart
To strike her dead"

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