Soft Spoken A poem by RAZAEL

As sure as the curling mist, leaves no trace,
and as cold as the shiver that makes you remember it.
There is always one who walks, soft spoken,
and wears their worries on their face.
Who are these men and women, driven clear,
that share not their souls?
For is there not a soul, kindred light,
that fells the same?

For I know one of these children, sadness pure,
and I am one as well.
Bound by common woe, and destiny,
that follows to the grave.
So lie sweet children, drying tears,
your protector still draws nigh.
That when the sun rises, seraphic light,
that cold, curling mist will fade.

Love
RAZAEL

Awww, that was so sad...reminds me of me.
Well written...I likey :)

That is a beautiful poem, I am very impressed. Keep up the good work.