The suffered soldier and our severed soul

I am awoken by the summer night crickets and lighting that strikes the roof rod. The wind and the abnormally hot air that begets the ominous dark cloud filled with ice rocks and Gods tears. My dying light marked by the lost touch of a handsome beacon to the dullness of my heart. A killing angel forgotten by the depths of a secretive shadow, engulfed in an endless pit of darkness. He is, but a memory one must hide away in the heavens of the heart and the evils of the mind. The forgotten peach wrapped in a towel under the intense heat of the summers breeze. Written as a spiritual insurance when the floorboards creaked As the wind caught my feet and the whispers that knew great feat. It is no trick or a forgery of truth, but a para-perception to make up my lack of you. I cannot move back the misty pendulum, wishing for some other to fill the gaps of what was once true. Before you left, I should have cleaned our mess, but I am a hoarder of memories That you must've despised, toxic soldier. I cannot promise the stars I won’t draw for you, nor for the winds of time to forget your name But your love will always roam the realms of my universal truths.