The Angel’s Breath

On tip-toe at the cusp of earth,
searching the skies for one small light
shining from the angel’s tower
to pierce the darkness of the night.

I stand alone, or so it seems,
and then the wind a presence brings.
An icy chill runs down my spine
until I see the angel’s wings.

A single tear rolls from my eye
at the whisper of angel’s breath.
I know this is my day to die
and step into the world of death.

Copyright  © November 11, 2008 by Karen M. Crump

© Copyright 2008 Karen (UN: armorbearer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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