The Halo That Would Not Light

From the very beginning of reading the poem, The Halo That Would Not Light by Lucie Brock-Broido, it sounds very sorrowful and depressing, almost spiritless. Starting out, the title provides a glimpse of the youth trodden down by darkness referred to throughout the poem. A halo is thought to be connected with innocence and angels; a halo that won't light sounds wrong - as though the purity was taken away.
Just glancing at the structure of the poem, it is odd - sentences start halfway towards the end of a line and lots of empty space. (As after reading the poem I think the empty space symbolizes and reassures the idea of endlessness.)
Reading through the poem, I find the second line describes what the first line is saying: "dropped your tiny body/wrapped in its nest of linens wound." The dropped bundle was wrapped in linens. The words continue to hint at a child or baby, "tiny body," "carriage," and "child," but the darker, more haunting words give a different meaning: "raptor," "scarab-colored hollow," "invisible," "endlessly," and "hunting." The combination of the two (youth and innocence with dark, haunting scariness) imply something was taken from the child. "Endless childhood" at the end of the poem solidify the idea that the child never grew up; endless meaning it will stay a baby for forever. Perhaps the spirit of the young is caught, forever as a child roaming the heavens, because in heaven you don't age... So it's young for forever.