The Ghosts of past, the Angels of future

As slight as the morning mist

As calm as the brooks do flow

Wavering like an arrow shot

The lips did part to give way to

The hearts deep joy,

Silenced as it was to be,

But pleasant as the breath of sea.

Happier it might have been

Wider it could have gone

Longer it should have stayed

But sadness as it comes with joy

Drained, slightened and shortened before too long.

Suppressing the crack in the ever darkened crust

Hiding the molten, majestic core below.

The ledge that grew ominous in front

Reminded him of the far deeper cliff

in his own aching heart.

When he thought of his tragic, hopeless past

The uncertain, anxious present was no relief

But the future held mysteries in lands not his

where hope may take flight from the ashes of today.

He had no choice but to reach out to heaven

Where his protector might smile upon at his deformed face.

And may help him repair his broken heart

Curing his crippled form was also not a task too tough.

Hoping that the next time he came back,

Life wouldn't be all this tragic and sad,

He dragged himself off the cliff.

All he felt was violent wind rushing past

And nothing but darkness wrap him whole.

Then his lips did part for a moments joy

For the first and last time there was hope.

There was a noise like a thousand thunder bolts

And as he opened his eyes

There was but white, bright light in and around him.