MARBLES

06 November 2014

ON THE SUBJECT OF ANGELS

If I believed in angels,
I would wonder who
The angel would be
Assigned to look after me.

The love I called sweet angel
Is gone
And I let everything crumble into ruins since then

The threads holding me to life
Dissolved
And I am not a weaver to lace them back again

I ask for an ethereal angel,
Sexless, like I want to be.
Give me a celestial angel
To hover round me lovingly.

My sweet angel, a love I thought
Was true
Packed up, boarded a plane, and left me miserable and blue

Someone enticed him to a far-off shore
Gleefully now
Has him in tow, back turned to me, he has abandoned me

In myths, winged angels
Always accompany your soul,
And at life’s end they hold your hand
As heartbeat fades and body turns cold.

I love a man who is capricious,
To be disconsolate
Is my reward.  A piece of me broke off and died

When sweet capricious cast me aside.
Forsaken,
Not yet a cynic, I choose to yearn for his return

If I lacked passion
As do ethereals,
How fortunate would I be:
I’d live each day agony free.

I know angels do not exist,
Neither in love, nor in the heavens:
They live in dreams, they are a wish

And I know I’m a fallen human,
Coveting another’s happiness.   
My cup raised high, I toast to emptiness 

I’ll drink red wine till my bottle’s done.
Fly down archangel, share a glass
Then strike me lifeless,
Discard me where the dead amass.