Damon Hyldreth
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DARK ANGEL
  
I see the shadow form
      (true servant of God)
Of the Angel of Death
      standing at the head of my lover’s bed.

Silently it flows
      (I lament my gift of seeing)
           over her delicate form
Taking her soul
      in a sudden whirlwind
           leaving 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 the months stumble on,
      and grief becomes a sin,
 her visit unexpected,
      through a hidden door.

Shaking with fever
      (the gift has been given)
I fall to the floor,
      quiet and still.
 
Listen quite clearly,
      my 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
   
Down - Damon Hyldreth 
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