my soulguard

with feet in the clouds

she marks my final years

and sighs

she waits for me up there

my solitary angel

for my silent prayer

for my moment of self doubt

or for a darkness to consume me

but I have no prayer for her

no scream

no shout

for there is no fear of hell in me

so she sits there

bored and restless

whilst her wings twitch
and her feathers fall

redundant

unwanted

with a slipping halo
that will lose its lustre
long before

she will hear my pleas