Beyond some fifty heavenly spires,
Below the purple mist, and cool, cobalt fires,
Wedged between some jade colored stone,
And held within deep thought alone,
Lay Denmark, the Angel.
Under the shade of a Whaling, White, Willow,
Adorning his head, are his wings like a pillow,
He basks on the bank of a surrealistic scene,
Under a daytime moon that shines like a dream,
Peace be with Denmark, the Angel.
Few have heard of Denmark’s story,
(Which has said to have been lost, at the height of its glory,)
And Denmark himself, a handsome Devil,
Is said to be no more than a common fellow,
(Well, as common as an Angel can be.)
You see; Denmark, the Angel, has but one power,
An ability to devote one with love, if you will a shower,
A parade of affection, an uncanny desire,
To fill ones life with an essence of fire,
Imbue a soul with unthinkable passion,
And dress ones life in pristine fashion,
Acknowledge: This is Denmark’s gift.
Yet, Denmark is allowed but only one time,
To find such a creature to install something so utterly divine,
And with this knowledge develop for him,
The philosophy to never go out on a whim,
That with such a heavenly gift,
Came a responsibility greater than Gods!
For God may give to every being,
An undying love that can be neither felt nor seen,
Where as Denmark, the Angel must carefully choose,
Such an awesome power for he will one day loose,
Acknowledge: This is Denmark’s fear.
This is why Denmark’s tears fall like rain,
And if you had his fate, surely you would do the same,
For a perfect love, you had the power to give,
Yet, within all the world and heavens above, it was for one life to live,
Could you, would you ever want to be Denmark, the Angel?
You exist in Heaven, yet, you live in Hell,
You understand your fate, and you wear it well,
But none the less, you proceed with your days,
Within the angelic world, of an ever heavenly gaze,
Note: That this is Denmark’s plight.
So with these cruel, cooling days of November,
I ask my friends in good nature, remember,
That above your life exist another,
The life of Denmark, Heavens Notorious Lover,
Denmark: His true name is revealed.
When the autumn moon is gold and eerily cast,
And the breezes carries with it the memories of the past,
Lovers, friends, and family,
Think of our friend Denmark, who cries somberly.
By the Whaling, White, Willows, near a lake,
Where he hides from the shadow of his fate,
Say his name and wait a while,
And on ones face shall appear a smile,
For the essence of his power is so incredibly strong,
It can stretch at the thought of him, for a moment not to long,
And give the tiniest amount of hope you see,
To Denmark, the Angel with the Lovers existence of Agony.
-- Jason L. Mathes
