a halo of expanding hopes, dreams, and life
a crimson teardrop, tribute to the fallen one's strife
encircles the head of an angel without wings
a splash of color to these dark streets it brings
porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss
spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist
this angel was once a most beautiful thing
bright cut emerald eyes, hair black like raven's wing
the angel in past had lived, loved, and laughed
how tragic this scene, that it could not last
for the angel dreamed flying, to touch the moon
but these dreams awoke jealousy, plotting, and doom
you see, in the city where this angel did live
i
t was mechanical, heartless, and did not forgive
run by the hateful human machine who could not fly
confined to the earth in a rage it would cry
"who is this angel to be different from us?!"
hate did consume it like mechanical rust
it sought a way to grind her into the gears of the machine
"since she is not like us, we'll **** her will to dream"
with that they commenced to wicked dark things
captured the angel and cut off her wings
broken and torn, they left the angel to the dust
content to proclaim "she is now just like us"
but the angel could never assume human form
unable to fly, she could not weather this storm
the moon in the night sky, silver and fair
taunted her mind, dreams turned to nightmare
confined to the ground, humanity rotted her mind
great beauty now gone, with decay left behind
lost to the madness, driven to the edge
the angel, a mere shadow, stepped to the ledge
porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss
spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist
the angel looked to the moon, once loved, in the sky
stepped forth, and though wingless, for a moment could fly
for though the hateful human machine
had taken her will to live, love, and dream
it could never break her call to be free
the angel found an escape from this cruel place to be
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 1:11 PM UTC
a halo of expanding hopes, dreams, and life
a crimson teardrop, tribute to the fallen one's strife
encircles the head of an angel without wings
a splash of color to these dark streets it brings
porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss
spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist
this angel was once a most beautiful thing
bright cut emerald eyes, hair black like raven's wing
the angel in past had lived, loved, and laughed
how tragic this scene, that it could not last
for the angel dreamed flying, to touch the moon
but these dreams awoke jealousy, plotting, and doom
you see, in the city where this angel did live
i
t was mechanical, heartless, and did not forgive
run by the hateful human machine who could not fly
confined to the earth in a rage it would cry
"who is this angel to be different from us?!"
hate did consume it like mechanical rust
it sought a way to grind her into the gears of the machine
"since she is not like us, we'll **** her will to dream"
with that they commenced to wicked dark things
captured the angel and cut off her wings
broken and torn, they left the angel to the dust
content to proclaim "she is now just like us"
but the angel could never assume human form
unable to fly, she could not weather this storm
the moon in the night sky, silver and fair
taunted her mind, dreams turned to nightmare
confined to the ground, humanity rotted her mind
great beauty now gone, with decay left behind
lost to the madness, driven to the edge
the angel, a mere shadow, stepped to the ledge
porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss
spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist
the angel looked to the moon, once loved, in the sky
stepped forth, and though wingless, for a moment could fly
for though the hateful human machine
had taken her will to live, love, and dream
it could never break her call to be free
the angel found an escape from this cruel place to be
