Silent
whimpers in the night,
you choose
to be out of sight.
You long to
speak out you cries,
as your
spirit slowly dies.
I have
sensed your agony,
tasted your
tears of honey.
Alas, I have
closed my eyes,
as I suffer
my own lies.
My fragile
angel in need,
you are in
torment indeed.
To touch you
is to reach me,
a plunge to
a stormy sea.
How I ache
to answer you,
to get you
out of your blue.
Hence, to
mend your broken wings,
a sorrow for
such weakling.
My dearest
little angel –
you, I
refuse to handle.
It is clear
and plain to see,
to save you
is to save me.
A whisper
from within.
© Phoenix
Montoya @ May 26, 2012
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