“Angel”

“Angel,” they name me
How much do they know?
My wings are tear stained 
my sword sharp, and so

kindred spirits hear a laugh
time as still as the ice
gods forbid we move too fast
still allows us to think twice

eerie light that you cast
my other half, my darkness
please remember the past
for there is little safety in the rest

from the fate that is foretold
however we can prevail
learning from stories old
yes I hear “Angel’s” wail

as the gloom gets colder
never wary, always true
somehow and forever older
love letters for them

addressed daintily to You