Where tears are all she knew,

and from this day forward she flew..

to be no more; she mourns

simple white roses,

tangled and torn

in her golden hair that poses

her crown of thorns

bloodstains that disclosures

her angelica face of bedlam dreams

so torn to be free, oh so free

angels fall sometimes  even cry

and maybe just maybe angels die....*



Debbie Brooks 2014