Inked Black Wings Poem by Eryn Stone

She sits, lonely and lost.
The wings upon her back is all she has left,
Inked Black from sorrow and despair.

People can't see how broken she is inside.
An angel, outcasted for things she hasn't done.
An innocent soul, tormented for wanting to be free.

Earth is her prison, God the jailer.
All she wants is escape.
She must die!

Found bleeding,
done with this life,
those inked black wings, spread for all to see.