With tarnished halo and broken wings,
I speak of the fall that came one fateful night.
(in hopes to spare you of the pain that it brings)
I, softly, will tell you of my lingering plight;
though the tears of one angel cannot make things right.
No recompense could atone for something so wrong.
(nor make darkness pleasing in anyone's sight)
This blood is my sorrow! This cry is my song!
So far from the light, I've been cold for so long!
I should have been humble. I should have been meek.
Still, I whisper the only words I have left to speak.
(here fallen so far from the glistening throng)
I tell you this tale so, perhaps, you will see...
that, despite what they say, you don't want to be me.