They rose on the wings of a song to fly.
Propelled by the angel singing, they soared.
Trailing stars, skimming clouds, they bid goodbye
to the mortal world to join in one accord.
Towards night’s lair, west beyond west they sailed.
On that far shore, the angel called them home.
Buoyed by hope never again assailed,
souls lost to graves, now found, need never roam.
Not while the angel calls them home. Her song
pierces the mortal veil and calls the lost
to return to the land of Eversong,
where all life began with a song that crossed
the world. A song that kindled life and light,
note by note, word by word, ’till all was right.
The third sonnet in the crown of sonnets I am doing for this week’s Stomp Prompt: soul