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Dark Angel ...

Poets first poems
This is an early piece from almost 20 years ago - rip it to bits (please)

You came to me you had the key
unlocked the fastened door;
I could not see the destiny
that lay upon my shore.
Your touch so sweet made me complete
you filled me to the core.
Angel, my Sweet Angel
you’ve been this way before?

I saw the pain in your refrain,
my heart went out for you.
Oh, how we shared and how we cared
hope reached out to rescue
from shattered dreams here was a gleam
for both, long overdue!
Angel, my Sweet Angel
we’re caught in love's lasso?

We sang so bright into the night
our music touched the rafters.
The plans were made for our crusade
called "Happy-ever-afters",
Let love's sweet song sing loud and strong
no ending to our laughters.
O Angel my Sweet Angel
You queen of all spell-casters.

On empty dock I stand in shock
I know not where you went;
I can't hold fast against the blast,
your love from me was rent;
Please grasp my hand from this quicksand
I fall in deep descent.

Angel O Dark Angel
Your absence, my torment,
Your absence, my torment!
---

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Contest: 

Comments

I'm not sure that the title fits, but it isn't my memory. I don't see anything to change. [Maybe the title].
Your rhyme is flawless, and never sounds forced. I tried to find something to rip apart, but...
~ Geezer.
.

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it has all the qualities of pop lyrics. Lot's of good rhyme, it's fairly transparent and direct, easy to follow, has some catchy phrases to work good with music.
As a lyric it is for me as good as any out there what you might hear at the Grammy's or American Idol. As such, the music and performance will endear it.

Presented as a poem to inspire a reader with metaphor, narrative, and poetic truth, it does not measure up.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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