I spoke to angels in my sleep.
Have you seen the face of Charity,
his compassionate resolve?
Oh, what a marvel to glance!
His eyes a warm, loving gray
that beckons his benevolence.
Your eyes appear not that color,
yet it is a surprise I see them at all!
Most others veil their bloodshot eyes
and scream with anxiety.
You watch me dance from left, to right, and back again.
Oh, the folly of curiosity!
Or maybe the gift; who am I to judge!?