My Angel

Be mine, my little dark angel.
By pain, you await my arrival.
With every beat of my
diseased heart, you draw
more tense,
like the strings of a tuned violin,
waiting to play the haunting
music that welcomes me to death.
You wait, in the
purity of white, and the darkness
pf red and black.
A halo, black as night,
crowns your head of blond
angelic curls.
Oh, how your sweet, black beauty of death
captivates
me.
I want to be yours, my little black angel
of pain.
I feel you now.