Shining in the sunlight, sits cold by night

Beauty by sight, but warmth is not right

Descending from the heavens above

In appearance of a small white dove

The dizzy blur that obstructs your vision

Inconsistent chaos like static in a television

Outline the edge of the world

Divine aura as they twirl

I sit in silence by the windowsill, reminiscing

Of the times I waited for this wicked-angel to arrive