At the Edge

he walked such a dark road

sinking in isolation

dense with disappointment

falling towards the rift

at the edge of his life

every day closer to death

emptiness and pain

his only friends

his life meaningless

sad, lonely, barren

yet one day a torn voice

pleaded for protection

guidance, love, help

strength, truth, hope

and on this same day

amidst pain wracking

knee deep in horror

surrounded by wickedness

a bright light

softly lifted him

wrapped him gently in love

a sword now drawn

holding off the vicious beast

as the real battle

just began to rage wildly

holding tightly

but he glanced just once

looking into the light

and clutched with longing

turning down a side road

for now

tirelessly and patiently

endlessly held

by the greatest warrior

the Archangel Michael


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