Angel of our time.

 

Angel of our time, can you hear me?

Angel of our life, you're very dear to me.

An open book is read from, a story that's well known, and the frown that is on your face the only emotion that is shown.

For deep your illness like the night and surely now this has to be the last fight.

Her grip on my hand is fading fast, as I recall all the many things and places from the past.

We would live, we would love, we would run.

We would walk hand in hand into the setting sun.

I hoped we might run again but I guess we never will, for now her eyelids flicker open once and then they rest quite still.

And so she crept into darkness in a shimmering silver gown and a face of great beauty that had lost its furrowed frown, and my friend, he of sadness did pass the book around, so we clutched it tight between our hands and whispered a prayer our tears did drown.

Perhaps we will meet again someday, perhaps we should not believe. 

For sorrow has filled our minds with haze, sent forward to deceive.

Angel of our time, can you hear me? Angel of our life, you were very dear to me.

Although time has claimed you, live you on always, on that island of sun where we both shall run...called memory.

When I happened by the pond.

 Twas twilight when I happened by the pond.

The sun had lost its sheen and the dusk was coming on,

so the bank I sat upon, with my feet suspended close
to still water.

A reflected face stared back at me with the same confusion, casting doubt on reality,

And so I looked away.

Please mister boatman won't you teach me?

to skim cross the surface like a pebble thrown, that I, like it may seek the other bank and all that is beyond.

Please mister Crane fly won't you tell me?

how it is you can duck so low and yet jump so high, for I might high-fly tonight and evermore soar out of sight.

A gentle breeze now caresses my eyes. A playful tease calls from a darkening sky. 

But as I lift my eyes so the day finally dies and the look of this creature says it all, for this is not a hunter after nightfall.

Please mister Kingfisher won't you show me? how to see through this mirror so that I may live, I've got so much to give, much more to learn.

Please mister Bullrush won't you whisper?

how it is you can stand so straight, not yours some others fate in a storm, protected by life's uniform, live you on always!

Twas night when I sat by the pond, Dark had broke lights loving bond,

And so I walked away.