Sorry. More Doctor Who poems from me. I just love writing them. If you'd like to see some of my writing apart from poems check out "Angels Fall the Hardest" or "If I could Just Touch Your World Upon A Whisper"; if you've read them already I'm sorry I keep writing poetry! Anyway, this isn't, unusually, from anyone's point of view. It's about someone, but I'm sure you'll guess who. Don't ask why I keep writing poems… I guess it's 'cause I have writer's block for SWMSSLIMD (sorry, I can never be bothered to type out my titles: they're so goddamn long!)

Disclaimer: Don't own anything apart from the poem itself.

Where Angels Fear To Tread

He is the light that sheds the cloud;

The wind that ends the rain;

He is a star, so lone and proud;

Nothing to lose or gain.

His anguish spans a thousand years,

His heart bruised with interrogation;

His legacy is a river of tears,

To which there can be no consolation.

He laughs with no feeling,

Screams with no sound;

Inside he is reeling

And no cure can be found.

He is a lone being,

Who once had it all;

And now he's unseeing,

Because he saw them fall.

Part of him died as he saw her cry;

Part of him laughed as they both flew high;

Part of him left when he watched them die;

Part of him loved, which he couldn't deny.

So how can anything remain

If all these pieces flew away?

And what does that angel have to gain,

When he can only lose the day?

He holds time in his hand

Like a book might hold pages and words;

And yet with all that power,

He could never say three little words.

Because he's always been alone;

That is his tragic legacy;

And though that angel once felt whole,

He'll never be at liberty.

Bound by loss and love and hate,

Chained by thoughts so old;

And though he'll never take the bait,

His world is getting cold.

Once he laughed with friends at his side

And stood fulfilled and strong;

And it seemed the world could only get better –

But that's where he was wrong.

When time passes you by in a moment,

You forget to watch it flow –

Too busy with the present

As you watch it wither and go.

Now there's no one to take his hand,

No one who'll fight the foe –

Now he dwells in a death-ridden land,

Where angels fear to go.

But don't you fear,

And begin to pray;

Because when trouble comes a-calling,

That angel's on his way.

A/N: Thanks. Reviews much appreciated. And so are they for my other fan fictions. I'd also like to note that anything associated with the Doctor, I'm afraid, normally does have angel associations, doesn't it? Ever since the Girl In The Fireplace. I think this may just tie in with Angels Fall the Hardest. 'Cause it's pretty depressing. So sorry about that. But if you want to see what I mean, you know what to do :)

((Thank you))