~ Fallen Angel ~ Part 8
"I heard she calls an angel", they said,
"that shiny creature of the sky.
I think there's profit to be made.
Such things are rare to come by! "
Disheartened with a broken wing
so hard to reach the sky, to sing
the angel's praises, so naive
when truth itself seems to deceive…
What once was pure, an immaculate dream
is stained and to the hunters, I seem
to be the temptress, luscious Seyren,
death of all heavenly creatures and men.
Comments about this poem (~ Fallen Angel ~ Part 8 by Irinuca Felixuca )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings