Passion's Angel

[ToXic aPplE]

"WE ARE N'ER LIKE ANGELS TILL OUR PASSION DIES" -Thomas Dekker (16th century)

what was to be my passion
has perished
and transformed
into an angel

a beautiful little cherub
so young and
so filled with light

A sexless thing
not completely formed, but
sustained on a love
that came too late

if I were given the reality
the sought after dream
of a second chance
would things still be the same?

if I showed my love
from the very first
would it have made even a little speck
of difference?

you know what though?
maybe I DID do things right
the gods know I tried

maybe my love WAS felt
from the very beginning

maybe this little angel
this cherub of light and love
had just one purpose

maybe thirteen weeks
(or six depending on how you choose to look at it)
was all the time
this little creature needed

to accomplish all the
goals, tasks, teachings and lessons
I am still
struggling with

I don't understand
how I can love
and want something
so intensely

a being whom I shall
never see, hear or hold
in my mortal life

a spirit who left behind
an empty shell
inside of me
before I even knew
it was there

love and hurt
are all thats left
the hurt will fade
but love is eternal

I shall hold this love close
and always remember you

[Doreen Peri]

Hi ToXic aPplE ...

Welcome to the Studio!

Thanks for sharing this most intimate and painful piece here. Many sympathies for your loss.

Looking forward to reading more of your heartfelt works!

[dadio]

Moving poem.

[judih]

a large part of loss and sadness
accompanies us in empathy
widens our sensation
pummeling the skin with holes
allowing compassion to plug us in

wonderful piece, T a
welcome

[ToXic aPplE]

Thanks. I wrote this a long time ago, but just recently felt ready to share it.

[joel]

I've spent time with some of the oldest people on earth,
in terms of years and breaths and days,
but all their time is meaningless except for the bits spent with joy in their eyes
and with mouths full of praise
and with arms full of hugs
or some other of the countless ways
we touch on laughs and friendship and peace and, or maybe "or", in relationship
before our strength decays;
and the author of these honesties above
gives life of every length its meaning: love.

[creativesoul]

i believe that angels come and share with us
all the things we couldnt hear with human ears
blocked by fears
hurt and disappiontment
washed of these things
the golden light comes and heals

[Arcadia]

not very involved in angels´s bussiness at the moment, but I like how the poem was written, your questions and your maybes...! (& yummy name! ), bienvenido/a toxic apple!!!!!!!