Shadowy-Light
A place of caves, of nooks, and cranny,
wide and long and deep and tall;
Noiseless echoes from wall to wall,
unrevealing, palpable, almost-choking.

The flames of a fire sparks up in its midst,
casting flickering shadows that reach beyond
their lengths of accustomed norms,
twisting, twining, dancing.

Flames once of red-orange become misted-green:
the entrance of darkness into light;
The air holds no breath, no heat, no soul;
Core of flames darkened.

The light becomes shadow, and shadows lighten,
reaching beyond their bounds, compressing;
Darkness likened to misty glaze,
neither the victor: Shadowy-Light

If I could live
If I could live, let me be of air,
of the space betwixt land and time;
The line of sight that dreams can reach,
where twilight ever shines.
Wind blows through fields of reed,
music flows over worlds;
The trees sway with sounds of silence,
ocean depths swirls.

Let the stars cry out for me,
and bleed their tears of pain;
Lakes of moonlight wash the plains,
and lets the body lay.
Walking the roads betwixt different dreams,
peace and conflict merged;
Sun and moon build a path
for people of many worlds.

On the broken wings of an Angel
The darkness comes, dusk falls heavily,
trees silhouetted and outlined against a silvery moon;
From the heavens, a ball of flames fall,
and hitting the ground, light is diminished.

On the broken wings of an Angel,
the weight of crimes press down;
Tattered, torn, battered, worn,
weeping figure of fallen glory.

Chains of self-inflicted judgement,
binding ankle to ankle, and wing to wing;
Fiery flame of eyes and sword,
put out, dead, fire to ashes.

Poised at the edge of a cliff,
screaming to the tumultuous sea;
Wings outstretched, straining against bonds,
cutting into flesh, into wounded seraphic wings.