Looking down on a world below,
An angel harking
But no heavenly bells to ring his tune.
From so high
They didn’t even know that he was calling.
His silent wings
Were just a silhouette against the moon.

Innocence was bliss
In the days before his falling.
Uncorrupted by the wealth
And smiling hospitality.
To the dazzle he was drawn
It made him clean forget his calling.
Fixated by tempting lights
He chose reality.

You know I’ll catch you if I can:
I never learnt the fear of falling.
Perched as I am on the brink of madness,
Looking down into the depths
Of a cold, dark heart.

 (I’ll have to make a tune to this at some stage. It needs one.)

The whetstone that hones your senses sharp.
The teacher that tells you once.
The wild horse that is chased
Then ridden, but not broken.

The safety-catch to play with.
The tooth-ache to be probed.
That last mistake, regretted.
That nagging voice, insistant.

Your ego seat-belt.
Your sanity checked.
Your heartbeat’s throttle.
Your life’s respect.

Fight not flight,
An energy incarnate.
Save to her offsprings’ grasp
No beast of burden she.
A fire this bright 
You cannot hope to tame it.
A life alight and so aflame.
So free.

Ferocious feline grace
Her steps come padding.
Woe to the luckless prey 
That shares her trail.
Not sport but need
Shall spur her deadly instinct.
Dealing doom
With an even paw
With a steely eye
With a vice-like jaw
And a flick of her fatal tail.

© Pete (Nov 2007)