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As a young girl she knew the visions in nocturnal darkness;
when midnight painted the somber skies blue; Dazzling flocks of seraph guardians arrived after dark's admission;
gave her a nightly view.
Only innocence in the eyes of a child would be
privy to the brilliant illusions like the
angelic renditions drifting ashore
in a radiant spiritual sea.
Virtuous beings with a message for believers

who are given chance upon chance
to stand and gaze upon them in lucidity
in Heaven's winged couriers nightly trace.

How kind for these sentinels to leave their home
and protect the children born of innocence that is so quickly lost
They watch and comfort each day until dreams
bring nights where peace cometh naught and at such a great cost.
Surrounding us with sacred glory, unconditionally loving us
no matter the habits we are taught.

A young girl recalls her tiny feet running quickly
through halls of a home back in time.
Scrambling to find 'comfort' called her parents' loving hug
at the end of a hallway if only she could get across that line.
She was so young and terribly afraid, trying to run
Her eyes squinted closed. She is taken aback.
but angels beside her kept her from panic
until her parents would put her to sleep by softly rubbing her back.

But they could not quiet the barrels in her nightmares
that rolled towards her down that hallway as she ran
stretching and lingering on it grew longer,
the young girl wished she was stronger.
Small she was and fragile she was the family's youngest
and most pampered child.
Coddled for a day and left abandoned to the wild.
Nevertheless her Angels stayed when death took her mothers away;
and her family didn't believe her when she mentioned angels on the funeral day.
She vowed to make them believe her a promise she made
to make them a proud family but she tucked her tales of angels
under her pillow to stay,
her secret...like the pain was buried away
rumbling sounds of barrels in nightmares rolled her way
but now she could not run and still he counts
one through twelve,
twelve to one...
the man's voice would not go away.
Nestled amid what she knew as comfort
she falls, at last, to sleep, in her fathers' arms.
curled up to his slumber in the room at the end of the hall
there she knew no harm.
Her childhood nights were numbered as she recalls stern voices of that day
until then the sounds of barrels and the man
had finally gone away.

But her visions faded and darkness troubled
her soul jaded with confusion and uncertainty began to grow.
She laid herself to sleep with her thumb suctioned

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