An Angel Descends

In the swamp lands behind a simple home, Where trees stand dying, and swamp grass strangles, Life lives on the balance with man tipping the scales, Man builds his home of wood and mortar, brick by brick, With no concern for the life around him. In the mist of the place, man has built, calling it a home, Sheltering his loved ones from nature’s storm, Believing he offers them a world of security and hope, A world of unseen dreams, a world of love and pleasure, But who protects them from the storms within? In the home man built with love and hope, A home of walls and barriers, trapping one within it, A child cries in the darkness, yearning to flee, But with no place to go, the child stays, Dying like the trees standing in the mist of the swamp. In the mist of torrid storms, and raging pleasure, A child foretells the doom to be, with tears of gold, Falling like the rain, a simple echo in the darkness, Seeing the face of evil, knowing the stain of despair, Vanishing hopes and loves within the walls of a home. In the home man built with dreams beating within his heart, The future unwritten, unspoken, a child dies, withering slowly, Withering like a rose upon the desert sands, never to bloom, Knowing only the stain of despair, the songs of torment, But an angel from the heaven descends upon the home. In the mist of sweltering despair and silent tears, An angel from the heaven descends upon the home, Singing a tune of hope, offering a simple gift, And a gift of safety and hope, a chance to thrive, Knowing the child’s heart still beats, an angel descends. In the home man built an angel invades its hearts, Setting wrongs to right, despair to hope, hate to love, Changing the child’s tears to the song of delight, Placing laughter within the walls, repairing the ills, Ending the plague, ending the evil within the walls. Written November 23rd, 2001 © on Nov 23 2001 03:00 PM PST   0 • 1