I turn around and see you there,
Your golden light shines through the dark,
Radiant in a very special way.
When the white turns to gray,
The dove looks away,
And when it is that I feel
My angel has been expelled from the hall,
It is your word that still manages to strengthen the soul.
I rise to meet you at the ridge,
Your stance so solid on precarious rock,
Beautifully rigid that way.
When the gray turns to black,
Dark sheets cover the light,
And when it is that I am
A burning husk of a shelled out man,
It is your hand that pulls my body to kinder meadows.
I awake to look into your face,
Your smile becomes a kiss on my lips,
Tears of sadness land as joy.