Treasure Island

micheal john


My Little Angel


When the evening wind whispers
And the flowers sing melancholy
when the ocean sees the nakedness of the moon
And the crickets on the hill top whistles
when the earth soldiers build their tents
behind the pillars of men

When the ocean waves inflict cold
to the lonely corners of the Earth
When the feet of troop travellers
leave their footmark upon the sands of time
When the stars of Heaven holds
their night shining feast

When the eyes takes their pleasure cover
And the body rests from the day battle
When nose of men sings horrible tunes
my ogle resign not from you
You are my little Angel.

Submitted: Sunday, November 17, 2013
Edited: Monday, November 18, 2013
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