Mutation

Upon the shores of No-man's-land, I met an angel, one whose wings Shed beams of light on either hand, As radiant as the sunrise brings. And happy souls, with eager tread, Passed up and down the sandy slope; "Oh, tell me your fair name!" I said; She turned and smiled, and answered: "Hope."

Along the shores of No-man's-land, The angel walked, with folded wings, And shadows fell on every hand, The burden that the night-wind brings. With head turned backward, sad and slow She paced the sands, her eyelids wet, "Hope mourns," I said, and soft and low, The angel sighed: "I am Regret."