I may not be an angel,
more like the devil's son.

Circling on blackened wings,
charred by life not the sun.

Prefect, hell no I'm not,
would never profess to be.

Soaring high inside night itself,
keeping watch over thee.

Hearing your cries of anguish,
brings a sadness to my soul.

Through clouds of black and grey,
I'll come to you in your dreams.

When life gives you challenges,
I can also feel your dismay.

Swooping in to cuddle close,
sharing a comforting word.

Wrapping you tautly,
within my singed feathers.

Never being one to judge,
only here to help you through.

Sleep tightly my sweet cherub,
no harm will come your way.

You'll be safe and warm,
snuggled beside my heart.

I'll sit guard as you slumber,
awaiting tomorrow's sun.