If I have a voice that sounded like an angel, would she listen to me. If the sounds were a deeper base tone, singing sweet melodies. Waiting to serenade her with my guitar strings vibrating strong. Strumming sounds drifting towards the moonlight, a minor misdirection that the soul travel on. My voice would be an inviting temptation, unlike the apple from the forbidden tree. My words represent mystery, each sentence strings along. If I had an angelic sound, I couldn't waste it for a minute. Because within the sounds there is a pot of gold, the exact currency omitted. Allow angelic sounds to enter your heart. Permit happiness that will connect to the soul after it gets dark. I love the angelic reference, what I imagine maybe bittersweet. However, life is amazing, and I am willing and eager to be a puppet on a string. Only if I was permitted to sing. Angelic.
© Daniel Mason