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Mar 2014
With every ripped, ****** wing
We sin and curse the lords
And for the consequence
We depart from the heavenly gates
Forever cast away
Our own creators
Send us a-stray
As we descend from the golden gates
With blood and scars apon our face
The blasting heat of the atmosphere's force
Burns the silky skin
  
Now apon this a-cursed earth one more
We fight ourselves inside
We rip at the vacant hole
That use to contain a soul
The acid tears run down our cheeks
As all our memories remain bitter-sweet
  
We shudder when the warmth of the sunlight falls apon our face
The glistening silky touch of the rays
Burn like the reality we must face
The reality
That we are trash
That we were not wanted to live in peace
That we must walk the earth for a Melania
Never to find
That we can not die
  
Instead
We creep into the cities
We live among the humanoid figures
That we once were
We dress in the same attire as anyone else
We hate, and love like anyone else
We eat, we drink like anyone else
We shed dark maroon blood like anyone else
We can feel the silky touch and tingle of a kiss apon the lips or body like anyone else
  
Yet
We do not die like anyone else
We do not age like anyone else
We do not live as anyone else
For we have already passed away
Eternal rest
Our bodies cursed
To walk this earth
For eternity
  
Yet
We look as anyone else
For we cover up
What should be revealed
The walking dead
Our wounds never heal
  
Tormented daily
By the pain of a never resting body
The tension we face
When we finally break
snap
The sudden rush of misery
Of reality
Of the years
And years
We've been forced to cry
And plead that we may return
To the one place we can rest
So that we may somehow find inner peace
So that we may sleep
  
But no
That will never come again
We were fools
And we paid the price
These acid tears run down our face
Once more
  
As we find a shallow ditch to hide
A shallow ditch in which we lay
To somehow cry the years away
This shallow ditch
Is called a grave
  
The very grave in which our earthly humanoid bodies lay
As the bones and flesh rot away
The stench of the dead that lay so silent
Fills our noses
We lay next to our former selves
And wonder
Why?
  
Why was it I who shall be cast down back to earth?
To live out this evil curse
As we scream at the top of our lungs
A simple question that will never be answered
"Why?"
  
Although there is more to this simple word
What we define with that simple word
Has more energy than we have left
So we sum it up with "Why?"
  
We try to pray every day
Alas we studder
We choke on the holy words
That spill out from our lips
They do not fit the tongue
They sound as foreign as our own presence on this earth once more
Though we say them every day
"Father into your hands I commend my spirit,
Father. . . . . . Why?
Why have you forsaken me?!"
The prayer is broken by betrayal
  
We ponder at the thought
Of why we still pray
Most likely
To be cast away
Once more
  
We break the thoughts with acts of hate
The hate comes from the reality
That the lord sits and smirks
As we suffer and crawl in the mud
As our spirits are broken
And the mind snaps
As we break our backs
As we try to become sane once more
  
Fallen angels
Of hate
Of lies
Of Blood and gore
Of death and light
Of lust
Of ******
  
As these broken hallow bodies
Walk once more
Their wings ripped from there skin
By their very own creator
Only long scars along the back can be seen
  
As our looks remain pristine
We walk among the living
As though we are real
But alas
We are but spirits that seem so life-like
You can touch
The very fabrication we are
Nothing but light and heavy iridescent chains
Though the hands run straight through them
As if they shan't weigh us down
To earth to live out this curse
  
Once more
We live
But not so as the simple mind it seems
We
Are fallen angels
Of the lords creation
Gone wrong
Andrew T Hannah
Written by
Andrew T Hannah  Brampton, Ontario, Canada
(Brampton, Ontario, Canada)   
761
   Pushing Daisies
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