>>>> >>> >> >

My sweetest angel,
she awaits somewhere.
I want to be by her side,
but life knows not to be fair.
All that's happened,
could jade me and wear,
but if only for her love,
I continue to care.

If it were, the world would crash,
cuz all those deserving,
would be blasted to ash.
And all those perfect,
so pure and serene,
would not have to put up with
fates hands delt obscene.

So I hang on,
hang in,
indulge no
tempting sin.
For her
I'll bide my time.
For her,
I'll drop my rhyme.

She makes me feel,
like I could walk across fountains,
and makes me feel like
I could break mountains.
Her wings beat the air,
singed by her soul, bright.
For her I shall pause,
someday, with her, take flight.

I think God is taking his time,
in moving the pawns.
In positioning his angels,
as their mortal charges fawn.
I can believe in Him,
just for her I can,
because one day she'll awake to a miracle,
me with flowers in hand, on her lawn.
(hee, hee hee)

A romance played across miles,
a love beaten but strong,
kismet that could overcome all,
and undo any wrong.
So I type out this ode,
this poem, this rhyme, this song.
My angel and I,
we shall be joined before long.

To witness heaven and then view this world, it is a stark confrontation. You are my heaven, and I wish to die if only to ascend to you.