My wings are ****** falling on those
below, bringing them pain of my virtues

Cinders of my falling motions reflected
of those below, corrupting reflections.

But it wasn't my fault, figured it was a prison,
not a sanctuary but a offering of ego not praise.

I took a stand, thrown from the road of white to
the dishevelled verses of below..

I'm not looking above or below the only reality
is what's lived on this singular spinning globe...