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Dark Angel

Rating: 3.8
Alone in the forest, not a bird or a bee,
Crowded by weeds and the overhang tree,
She sits on a swing made of old wood and vines,
Swinging backwards and forwards, she never smiles.
Her once white featherd wings have grown old and worn,
Her once pretty dress is now dirty and torn.
Her legs are bloody from the thorns as she swings,
Her feathers are shedding from her darkened wings.
Her eyes are black and so is her soul,
surrounded by sadness, she cannot let go.
She's constantly swinging, she never sleeps,
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Lynda Robson 29 October 2008
Good flow to this one, a tale of a fallen angel, well done. 10 Lynda xx
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Elle B 24 October 2008
Impressive, beautiful, lovely rhyme... Great job
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Elizabeth Peterson 23 October 2008
Gorgeous. Haunting, even. wow.
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Lindsey Ashton 13 October 2008
Thanks for your comments, appreciated :)
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Silence Dogood 12 October 2008
Absoulotly beautful not what I expected at all great write :)
0 0 Reply
Chris Newlash 12 October 2008
This was absolutly beautiful great job!
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