Through the trees and shrubbery
of life's consistent obstacles
I forged a path of destiny
and made my way to a clearing.
There amongst the toadstools stood
my angel in the razor-vine wood.
As if to get here I must bleed
rewarded with this different breed.
She toys with charms
and charms with smiles
so winning my heart
through passion's denial-
and I could love her through innocence trials.
Though she has wings to fly away
she holds my heart: decides to stay
and I am swift and strong but I
don't know how long I can sing the angel's lullaby.
For if she wakes and sees me true
I hope she'll still say, "I adore you."
and lay in this meadow
where there's no way out for me
It takes so long
but if we're lucky
there are angels we get to see.
I'm not a religious man
but feelings like these
must come from divinity.
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