Send Me An Angel

What is life now but the knowledge of death? …the inevitable foreshadowing of oblivion, Rendered in shifting shades of grey on a desultory canvas, And scented with the musty odor of dusty bones, of mildew, Like winter smoke twining into my nostrils in ribbons of Scented decay… What is life now but a slowly mounting misery? …the proverbial impending doom, fearing my reflection In mirrors, shying away from the sun, shunning company, And love and laughter and life, in case the knives of bitterness Slice too deep when I have to give it all up… What is life now but losing myself in music? …living vicariously through the heartening metronomic rhythm Of drums, being buoyed by the giddy soaring riffs of a guitar That speaks more resonantly than any human voice, finding Solace in maudlin melodies, in the roar of defiant cries… What is life now but stumbling reluctantly down memory lane, Seeing His face clear and pure as the driven snow, tasting his kiss, Remembering the tickle of his hair on my cheek, and the way He made me feel more alive than life itself ever could… What is life now? Just this… …a waiting game, a chess match, a test of wills…me versus the Reaper, dancing Our demonic jig, vying for every breath…his skeletal hands round my Neck, a bony noose…his hollowed out eyes, his gaping smile, his whispers Of the grave And still some stubborn fragment of me dares to hope, to clasp These feeble hands in prayer, and plead for rescue, for some small Shard of succor…for the angel I never met to come to me at last, A savior on gilded wings, with a smile on his rosebud lips…