Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2016
A fallen angel
My wounded piece of glory
Sins he has commited
May not be forgotten
His soul broken from the bones
His heart dark as coal        

Eyes pure evil
I look him deep inside his pupil
To me he is made of gold          
A god or perhaps a sacred soul

His murderers hands
Grips my weakling throat    
my crimson blood
Drips from my cutdeep flesh      
He Beats me till im numb            
His body was strong,mine so fragile      
            
But all I see                                        
When I look deep within  
Is my lovers soul
Pure and sacred
Can cause me no harm at all          
Just a devil inside my lover
It is not my angels fault.
trust me, I know
Written by
enigma  africa
(africa)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems