I walked to the moon to speak with my Red Angel.

We spoke of many things,

The fire flies in starlit skies weeping all these scarlet cries,

And how they lost their wings.

I walked into the ocean to watch with my Red Angel.

We watched all we could see.

The glowing moon, as merfolk croon, growing like a big balloon,

And how lovely things can be.

I walked into the forest to hear with my Red Angel.

And what things could we hear,

The little stream that fills a dream inside a drowning tiddler’s scream,

As it prances in the mere.

I walked into the ruins to write with my Red Angel.

Oh, what crazy things we wrote.

The forest sprite, in garbs of white, glowing there in all her might,

And how she simply seemed to float.

I walked into the twilight to die with my Red Angel.

And what a silly way to die,

With silent tears and wasted years and perished whispers in my ears,

And how we kiss you all good-bye.