Damon Hyldreth
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DARK ANGEL
  

I see the shadow form
      (true servant of God)
The Angel of Death
      stands by the head of my loverís bed.

Silently it flows
      as I curse my gift of seeing

           over her delicate form
Taking her soul
      in a sudden whirlwind
           leaving me only the empty shell.
 
As in a waking dream I hear myself say:
      "your mom is dead"
To our young sons, 
      newly half-orphaned,
           numb in my arms.
 
As months stumble on,
      and grief becomes me,
her visit is unexpected,
      through a hidden door.

Shaking with fever
      (the gift has been given)
I fall to the floor,
      silent and still.
 
Listen quite clearly,
      the poet arises.
Waters of death
      flow from me no more.
 



GORDIAN KNOT

UNCANNY

SUBUD

BURTYNSKY

LIFE

VIXEN

WOLVES

FIREBIRD


DARK ANGEL

WIZARD

SILVER SWORD


ETCHED
   
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