Aknowledgement:
My friend Ben Davis read my poem "Loss of an Angel" and liked it so much that he wrote a response to it. I thought I'd put it up on here as I thought it was quite good.
Enter God from the auditorium up onto stage. With him follows a thousand voices of seated love and a furnished setting.
God:
For words to beat the echoes
Enwrapped from bars
Shadows the sun I weep
Encircling the dark.
I've exaled your woken dreams
Of the ticking we bleed
Yet blood has become too broad
To sew yet new weave.
My curtains stitched hands,
They are not yours
Your departure change
Must occur to the skies we conceive
Through sound, of the faintest
And yet all the world perdorms.
I speak of your deplete angel
Yet readjust your mask,
For if words consume a potential hell
Imagine all wingless cast.
May lakes thaw from my cheek;
This play you plague captivates,
Yet these plucks unravel the floor to eternal drift
And feathers will nevermore rejuvenate.
No more shall denouement end a chapter.
