Tears streaming through my poems,
wounded words sailed through the oceans.
The night outside has wings
strong enough to sweep my soul away.
Wires were strung across a sunset sky,
wounded lines sailed by and by.
Darkness left as I crept to my bed,
nothing can happen
more beautiful than death.

Jessel Jane Tevar

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wounded-4/