Angel

His skin pale white, sun kissed with feathers on the back

He lives a broken life with a few coins left in his bank

No matter where he goes, no matter who he meets, he feels alone and incomplete

He wanders the streets of Atlantis, longing for something he can’t see

His heart is on fire, but his mind is blackout cold

He dreams of escaping this mindless world, on the verge of letting go

“Don’t be scared, child” says the old widow

“A time will come when you will be set free”

Nothing on his mind, just how to get through the night

He goes to sleep in his little shed and dreams of greys, but not blues and reds