Angel of the Night

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A maiden,
Hidden just beneath the grand oak,
Resting upon sleeves of bark,
Suddenly, she arises,
Trumpet at hand,
A beautiful figure struck the night sky,
With long legs and arms,
Veiled in a purple gown that danced and flowed with her.
Then, she blew her trumpet,
The night shook and tore,
The stars of the Heavens shone brighter.

Fallen and diseased is the earth,
Only acts of righteousness shall live on forever,
The earth growls and screams,
Dimming, dying,
Duller and duller,
Fading forever.





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demunno1 said...
Dec. 23, 2008 at 9:30 pm
Very awesome poem! Excellently structured.
 
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