Prayer to Azrael

In the shadow voice
I speak your name,
Azrael..
through the darkness of the humid night,
it resonates
in cathedral carillions,
tolling, like some great, deep bell
heard for miles afar,
lulled on the swell of the wind,
this symphony,
mighty in sorrow
carried on huge, dark and silent wings,
obliterating all light,
extinguishing every flame
that strives to survive your immense unfurling.

Your name, an attribute, a mortal gift,
a blessing passed through many lips
and given meaning in their prayers.
A word
becomes an invocation
simply by the emotion
imbued in its speaking.
Azrael....
The sirens sing your name
in ways that bring the angels
and the demons to their knees.
They cannot help that they have fallen.
Your name stills the heart,
silences their breath,
culls the flame of longing from their loins.
Azrael.....
the name is Love
and ever fleeting in that kiss,
that eternity could be so quick,
so demonstrative in but a moment
where time does not exist
and forever
becomes the blink of an eye,
yet so much longer
than these days.
We speak your name,
and like them, fall,
weak-kneed into your cold, cold arms
just waiting for that kiss,
however fleeting it may seem,
it is longer than our days
and fuller than our nights
and so much stronger than our dreams profess,
and so much sweeter when Life is willing
to surrender to this song