Dark Angel

 

The wings of the great dark angel – I heard them brushing,

I heard them brushing but thank God not by me,

And the tide of battle came suddenly to me rushing

From a dark Malayan jungle over the sea:

And a child not six years old who had lost her brother,

Was hiding her face from me.

The wings of the great dark angel I heard them brushing

  • And the darkness fell on another’s Calvary.

 

And my own little one came running to me frightened,

Crying ‘Mummy, what was it made him killed?’

And I said, ‘It is destiny dark and doom the dreadful,’

And I showed her then how golden the sunlight spilled.

‘But Mummy what was it made him have to die?’

And I answered her gently of was in tribal places

And the cross of man with his endless battle-cry.

                                                  Llywelyn Lucas 1943

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