frozen

as the moon sets

the angel slips her vulgar straddle

into the breach that is hell

where once was fire

now is ice

she clings

fingers torn and bleeding

to the frozen wall of rock

built to repel her

frosted armor

shows no cracks

colors fade to gray and black

the music of her mind

obscured by the howling

of frozen breath

the crystalline shimmer of

her frozen blood

surrounds her

 

will you take her gently

healing her

with the warmth of love

 

will you leave her

forlorn and forsaken

a timeless testament

to betrayal

 

will you pry her

bloody fingers from the rock

drop her into the abyss

and call it done

.

.

I did not know when I wrote angel, that her story would continue.

I did not see the black and torturous ice forming around her.