Pages

The Angel

The angel rests her eyes, 
safe, for now, from all the lies. 
A smile plays upon her lips, 
the soft breeze upon her wingtips. 
Deep in sleep she doth reside, 
Dreaming of a moonbeam ride. 
In a few short hours, she shall wake, 
and the pain of others she shall take. 
The night of man, to her is day; 
misery to happy she shall sway. 
To their dreams, the angel comes, 
songs of love are what she hums. 
When all is bliss, her task complete; 
To her this was no easy feat. 
When once again her night doth show, 
The joy of sleep to her shall flow. 
And again, the angel rests her eyes, 
safe, for now, from all the lies

--Samantha H., Adult