Angels rage...

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It's past midnight,
I'm lying on my bed,
In short of words,
Everything seems to be dead...

It's pitch black,
The candles are flickering to aid it,
Its spreading an unexpressed luminescence,
To uphold the transient evanescence...

I've buried my face in my arms,
Trying to hide my lamentable mortal,
Utterly quiet and bra inly unstable,
To me your mourns are fatal,

Lead by the flame,
That emits a soft golden glow,
Piping a weird music to the vaulted ceiling,
My bemused eyes travel around to feel the echoing footsteps,
In the darkness of the shadows...

My pearly white tears,
Are wetting the glaring flame,
And the glow seems to deaden,
To cease and end the game...

A pearly tear trickles down my cheek,
and stains the blank page,
Even though the blood curdling is on its peak,
I'm present to befriend the angel's rage...