Dark Angel Of Death Poem by Zephyr Cullen

Fallen far from grace,
Far to far from home,
I stand here on this shaky ground,
Cold, afraid, and alone.
As I walk this weary land,
I think of who I am,
Where I belong,
Where I stand.
On these once god like feet,
I can bearly walk,
No balance to be found,
Only a ghost of who I mocked.
For the first time in my life,
I feel what seams to be fear,
No rest for my self,
Like the end is finaly near.
The darkness of the world,
It wraps around me it's wings,
I hold on to my self,
I don't know what this means.
Where have I fallen?
Where did my soul land?
Is this my own self belt hell?
Is this a helping hand?
Why do I feel safe,
In the dark mix of hate,
Is it the life that was chosen for me?
Is it my chosen fate?
The darkness take's over,
No more visions of there god,
Only me in the reflection,
No white dress, no angelic facade.
My once blond hair,
Turns black as coal,
Blue eyes turn a crimson red,
My pure soul so bland and cold.
Ash forms a black cloak,
A scythe by side,
I hear the screams of the living,
I hear the crying of the ones who died.
Fallen far from grace,
Far to far from home,
As I stand on this shakey ground,
As death...I'll never be alone.