Slender beams of moonlight enter this darkened chamber
I kneel
It is always cold
Always somber
I am frozen here waiting
Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as dust dances in the air
They form images in my mind
Penetrate my exposed soul
I see a reflection in an angel’s face.
I raise my head now embracing this hallowed salvation.
Copyright: authorchrisbrown