My wings have been ripped off,
I'm flightless and dead.
A fallen angel?
Or a demon instead?
Was I meant to go on?
Was I meant to live?
Or am I nothing,
Just a worthless little kid.
Insignificant to others,
less than dirt I am.
Thoughts of being dead,
In my head I do cram.
I want to fly away,
I want to leave this hell.
Instead I am reminded everyday
That I fell, yes I fell.
My heart has be tormented,
Dappled in black.
I lay in the murky shadows,
I am held back.
My soul encumbered,
Never seen by the likes of others,
But nothing more than apathy lingers.
A wingless angel fell to the earth,
Or maybe just a demon lie in it's place.
Either way something now dead lies within the recesses of earth.
I want to fly away, I want to escape this hell.
But I am reminded everyday,
That I fell, yes I fell.
 Poetic_Indulgence · Sat Jun 14, 2008 @ 05:32pm · 0 Comments |
