Tears of the Angels
From the dark and silent night, an echo did rebound.
In the place of lonely quiet, hush and listen for the sound.
All your fears are gathered here, waiting for your drifting sleep.
All your dreams are waking to the vigil that they keep.
By the light of candles glowing, somewhere in this grand despair,
Shadows travel deep and dark to cloak the path to where,
A dream might be awakened by the sun-kissed dew of dawn…
The stars burn out, and wishes tire for dreaming hope, now gone.
The heir of purest sanity, in quest the query for the sane,
Does the sky cry Angel's tears? Or is it simply rain.
The answer is, there is no answer to the questions grieved upon.
The origin of undetermined destinations traveled on.
In the distance, hear the sound of splitting silence war declared.
Must we fight to win for love? Or fight to be despaired.
Heavy is the heart of heaven, born the weight of hearts left broken.
Hardened is the soul to which the dreams remain unspoken.
Weary, aged, defeated spirit… Fight not if you fight for truth.
Un-recovered wasted journeys lead to long forgotten youth.
If you're living only to die, what are you really living for?
So don't just live to fight the battle, fight to win the war.
In the gift of each new dawn, awaken your dreams to the day.
Let your heart guide you along life's path until you find the way.
Until the storm is simply a storm, and not a life of pain.
Then Heaven will not cry Angel's tears, it will be simply rain.
© Copyright 2005 Sherri Lynn Whittaker 3/23/86