Evelyn

He felt the pain reach back toward his knuckles.

     Thoughts again of Evelyn.

A light beam captured his essence of sight,

And he reached for the wooden-boarded window--

(Evelyn)

A sort-of emergency mobile lightning, and nothing more.

The brooding darkness was still quite there.

The rain had kept on washing the outside-shell.

Evelyn, still not here.

Blossomed with life, Evelyn leaned herself down with grace on an ancient oak tree,

His branches rich with the purple leaves shield her soft flesh.

Her delicate features reflect upon the crystallized lake liquid.

And then the stormy wind had carried her reflection, the oak leaves,

And Evelyn's heart, upon the frost, away,

Beyond his immortal longing.

The foggy sky had reddened all of a sudden in the inferno shades.

At those exact moments, as if the location of hell has been replaced and transformed into the delicate heaven's sky; beyond the damped fog, the angels had burst, waving with their burning wings.

Darkness.

A deafening silence in the frost had settled around his cold body.

He had not stirred, only stared.

The florescent light that had been left at the bathroom had simultaneously flickered.

Evelyn covered herself with the bluish sheet,

As a tiny infant, she smiled and moaned beneath her sweet dreams.

Pyoter had hesitated, he longed for her touch.

Gently, his delicate fingers had sent toward her features,

And before they could take pleasure from her milky white skin,

The storm from the cold beyond had spurt,

As a refined swarm of yearning, toward their bed and his touch had went through her--

Evelyn had scattered into shreds of dust and dissolved into the frost.

Pyoter again darkened into himself.

About a dozen angels where chased by a few more,

And they are all waving their wings, scattering silvery wings.

The sky were burning as the angels had fought each other,

One of them was torn by an heavenly angel --

And had began his descent toward the blackened water,

Which had reflected death.

He reached the dark bathroom,

And cleaned the broken glasses.

His hand reached to pick up a large shred;

And he saw his face, tears of blood had wept

Behind him – Evelyn,

No more.

That night, he bled sadness, until he fell asleep.

In his dream he saw Evelyn, behind her, her wings had stretched.

She smiled at him, as she extracted her sword,

Joining the bloody battlefield of the heavenly angels.

He called her to come back, but she was lost in the passion of battle.

Blood had spurted and the dead had fallen all around.

The rain had washed the windows,

A thunder was heard, and the lighting had burned the room.

He awoke to find himself alone at bed, again without her.

She won't be back, he feared.

Pyoter banished the thought from his mind.

In the heavenly skies, the angels still fought.

Evelyn flew among them,

Struggling with her last breath,

She fell, fading.

Coarse moister evaporated from her gloomy tomb.