Before You Were

Before you were an angel you were an ice prince, a translucent silver glacier of floating white. You were the dew on the waving grass, a small bead of diamond glass. And as ragged scraps of clouds crossed the surface of the sky you were the moon with pearly eyes. You were the wind that rushed by, shrieking and screaming at the night sky. And as the season slowly changed, you were the snow, that powdery sugar, that softly fell from the sky, numb, cold, biting.

And when you were the night, dark and velvet, you blanketed the world and wept droplets of stars, for the world had destroyed your breath and and slowly fed you evil. You were the thunder of an angry storm, roaring and rumbling as white light flashed, then silence that followed small, disconcerning. You were ashes of a burning flame, sooty black as the heart of him who raised you. You were a wide green stagnate moat, carefully guarding your castle, as enemies came, prying, eyeing, watching, you became the granite wall, sealing, building, breaking. You were the dying scream of a doe as dark eyes saw the hooded black, then became dull and flat. A chunk of emotion lodged in a boy's throat. You were the stream of blood, red, running. You were a snake, hissing and shrieking. A cowered mouse, shaking from timid fear. A huge hound white as bleached bones. A brittle stick of charcoal. A wave of smugness. A red swirl of pain. A blaze of anger. A cold, steely gray.

And when you unfolded your wings of dazzling opaline white, and flew over the sapphire sky, I watched you rise and rejoiced to see your silver eyes. And I held up my palm and caught glittering frost, opening my hand eagerly to see, a glossy feather burning bright, from you to remind me of azure hope and a sun kissed sky.

Part Two: Then

You were the Ice Prince with moonshine hair, a crown of silvery gold. As beads of crystal fell from the sky, you stood there, shivering, as water cascaded down your cheeks, oh, you cried. Standing, watching, waiting, you wept unto the heavens, as ice cold venom within you bleed free. I brushed away gold fire and touched ghostly skin, as my breath became a mist, soft, warm, I saw silver lamps aglowing. With the world around us a hazy whirl of color and shadow, I felt the twinge in your heart, I felt the warmth of your skin, and I felt the blaze of your eyes, full of fire.

And as I held on to you, and you on to me, our fingers became two entwined branches, held together as the wind rustled our leaves and whispered secrets of gold and brown crackle. I held on to your warmth, held on to your glow, as the mist circuited around us, we lit brilliant white. As the water cascaded on us, our mingled skin soaken wet, clouds diamond tears, we reflected upon the memories, upon our thoughts. And from within you gave a shiver and the walls of granite tumbled, cracked and shards ice melted free, and as that it truly dawned you. You loved me.

Part Three: Were

And then you were the angel, with eyes as silver as ice white foam. You were then dawn's light, watery hues of orange and pink painted faintly across the sky. You were the song of silvery hair, rippling in the sunlight. You were the tingle of raspberry tart, as candy pink lips laughed purple.

And you were the shade, cool and sweet, as tall trees loomed, holding branchfuls of waxy leaves. You were the sea of fluffy cotton clouds, wispy and misty, you easily glided. You were the crystal as luminous as rainbows. And you were the cider that sparkled and winked. You were the fire, burning bright in night's dusk and gloomy sense. You were the fountain who bubbled, clear and cool. You were the leathery wings of a newborn dragon, wrapped in liquid agleam. You were the stars, a glittery shower of gold. And you were the petals of satin fine snow. You were a rainbow, an explosion of color. A silver-blue cocoon, you were. A butterfly floating lazily in the sunlight. A golden light dancing over polished stones. Dark lashes hiding faithful, silver eyes.

So you were the angel, your skin ethereal white, as swans flew around you in a veil of feathery light, I stroked your wings of silvery white, soft and shiny as the summery clouds. I held a hand of pale mist at dusk, wishing for time to pass by slowly. I too, wanted to fly.

Chapter Four: Now

But Angel, now you are gone from me, but only in physical being. From deep inside, memories come, washing forward like a wave. Memories told, you were ringlets of golden hair, a halo as bright as the sun. You were hands of candle wax fumbling flames of red. You were a voice, rich, clear, and deep. You were moondust on pale smiling cheeks. And you were a deep glade, hedged in moonbeam.

Though you were these things of fragile, glass-spun substance, with your voice of silver smoke, your skin moon bright, and your glassy eyes, gray, these are the things I wish to hold onto, to keep, as I hopelessy watched your life slip from my grasp. I could not fly beside you.

I hold the feather in my hand, a symbol of your love, our love. A material thing for comfort, I cannot withhold. How can I stand life without you? I see you in the pale, transparent moonlight. Smiling softly, whispering of white, tracing my palm, and brushing your slender fingers across the feather's continuous glowing light. I hold on to it tightly. No, I will not let go. I cannot. I will not. No.

I lived for you, you must understand. It has become apart of me. To let go of your feathers' crystal light. No. Never. I cannot let go. Memories aren't enough, I weep, to sit and ponder of what you think. Here, I shiver in the dark for you, let the winds, the rains, the storms come, I will cling to this, this thing, that once was yours. To smell, to feel, to run my finger down it's spine. I glance out at the river, holding the feather, a reminder of azure hope and a sun kissed sky. I hesitate at this. In doing so, do I carelessly throw away my love? I see the pale pink of dawn, as rosy fingers reach out over the horizon and stroke my feet. Warm and soft as your aura glow. I glance down at the sparkling water. 'I love you' I whisper.

I drop the glossy feather of opaline white in the water, soft and weightless as a mother's smile, and as crystal diamond float over liquid glass, twinkling like a distant star, Draco, my angel, I have learned from you; to let go.

-fin-