I look at myself in my dreams and I have wings of blood and wear a halo of darkness. My chest and my arms show battle scars still bleeding. The fire in my eyes burns through my eyelids and blinds those around me. I wear the sword of a warrior yet my heart shows no signs of knowing it. Then an angel comes into my life and touches me. My wings turn white and my halo shines. My soul accepts the sword I carry wherever I go. But the blows of battle are not to disappear. They close but remain there as scars white and visible against my skin. They form twin arrows on my sides and crossed swords on my chest. There they remain a constant reminder of the past mistakes of a broken soul and a broken heart.
