she stood over the water,
on the cliff of no despair,
wings folded,
relaxed like she doesn't care.
but she does.
the sky is torn,
she bows her head,
the crown is worn.
legend says,
that you can fly.
only the believers,
will risk to die.
the wind whispers
into her ears.
the sun warms
all her fears.
reluctantly her hands fold,
into a prayer.
how ironic, she thinks
even angels dare
to have hope.
So, let fate come forth,
under the winter night.
alas, angel of the north
bring me your light.