You wander the halls like a ghost
"A figment" you whisper
"Of the imagination."
And now alone
Are angels really out there?
Are they real beings
Looking down from heaven with love in their eyes
Or are they just made from simple air
Yes as you walk down the halls
Falling deeper into despair
You feel a hand brush your hair
You hear a voice calling to you:
And you do.
© Copyright 2016 GuardianAngel85. All rights reserved.
Poem / Religion and Spirituality
Poem / Other
Poem / Poetry
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