aleksparks

His bright, white haze had always held him trapped,
Kept him blinded in hallowed embraces,
Scarcely breathing, trying stiff to adapt,
Teasing him with glimpses of tabooed places.
He lusted for freedom from perfection,
To fly vaguely in dangerous waters,
Incessantly gaining disaffection,
For the lastest fictions he had uttered.
Another offered a chance at freedom,
Skeptical of the darkness surrounding,
Clouded mind knowing that accepting him,
Results in a contract always binding.
Exhausted of sacred blessings he turned,
From angel’s love and in Tartarus burned.