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ArcherGirl Sep 29
Today, I told the Lover of my soul how much I love Him.
I sang Him new songs
And I danced before Him.
You could only imagine.

Then I turned back and struck Him.

Oh, what is my love?
What is my song?
What is my dance?
Where is my worship?

This is the 490th time I've fallen.

Yet still, my Lover says, "I'm not counting."

And supplies His grace for my 491st returning.
kAyLa Aug 31
she exists in the empty space
of in between
she's fallen out of love so
many times
she convinced herself
maybe nobody will
love her
the same way he did
even though
he's the reason
she fell out of heaven
He was so young and so doomed.
A boy.
Only 16.
He’d slay his angels and slow dance with his demons,
But he loved with all of his shattered heart,
And that?
Well that was what made him mine.
Poetic T Jul 7
For the well was deep,
      and the water
            endless.

     But I broke on the surface,
Never sinking beneath
The fractured
reflection of the abyss..
Poetic T Jul 3
She plucked his fingernails
            gently out,

                 he loves me,

                                  He
                             loves
                        me

not..

The pollen of love filtered from
            everyone discarded..

Pulses raised with
each one
           harvested.

The dander was sodden,
               but still she needed to
know..

Does he love me, does he not...

And after every petal was gently
                                        discarded,

You thought that the only way
                 to no was to cut the stem..

Looking to his surroundings,
            a jar of nails...

How many had been planted here
                                               before..

Like a daffodil popping off,
                        she was out cold..

He'd been like a seed floating in the air,
       what some would catch to place a wish.
                          his was to land upon her jaw.

                                              He fell,
the roots that bonded him fallen.
            And he ran out in to the wilderness.

Floating in and out of consciousness,
                                       but he was free..
I.

The Angel becomes fallen.
from where he spreads down
there by followed — with soothing lullabies
in delicate light,
the Fairy appears.

II.

He arouses to the music
of her wings — the myth
gains to life.
The Boy blinked twice
from where he lingers down,
there the Fairy appears.

III.

The rush of waters
calms the essence of the Boy
when the Fairy extended her grip,
he thus was lured
into enchantment — the particular illusion
he was keen to understand.

IV.

Chirping birds — rattling noise
squirrels chattering;
the refrain sounded
in the mind,
when the rapidness
of one's way of heart-beat's
tingle from within.

V.

Into one's perceiving
from where he flies down
in the grips of a fairy as she bears power — wreak havoc,
so that the tale alone lies
in books:
to be learned by children.

VI.

Until he who belongs to
melted ashes
of charisma and grace — again he greets her
the winged melody
buzz in his tastes
a shooting star
hanging upon an idle request
from where he spews,
preserved by the Fairy.

VII.

The Angel becomes settled.
the Fairy comes,
in the stream where they clash
as the sky bore his pining,
the illusion appeared to life.
I wanted to try this.
Parin Jun 23
You crumpled my heart,
just as casually as you step and crumple the useless fallen leaves.
I then realized that there I no point to sit and grieve.
I thought that I could trust you again,
but oh I was wrong.

You broke me again,
but this time it made me indefinitely strong.
Take my heart and squeeze it like the stress ball you use it for,
drench out the blood that slowly drips down the palm of your hand unto your wrists and take me as i am for your sudden bliss.
I feel the gated entry close me in, like a locked up bird cage with no way out for fallen angels.
Fallen angels are ones like me and you,
We try so hard to be free but always end up with clipped wings that don't seem to grow back.
Now can you understand me?
The sky holds its truth — as I stomped my feet
and let my cold eyes burn
into the windowpane
I realized,
they have my mysteries.

Shadows were occurring through,
conscious of my becoming —
demons were shrieking,
“Hail! Laud be to the desert god!”
I couldn't keep up anymore.

Dusts were stirring;
spider's web untangling,
they have my secrets.

Yet they stood hushed.

I did it again, did I?
All my sins showing
like a clog stink
I perceive,
the shadows screamed,
“Laud be to the desert god.”

Her face formed from the wetness of my sins,
showing me
of whom I have:
grow into and to be gone.

Hail you, hail you.

The windowpane
drew me back
to its torture,
begone now,
for I have descended from grace.

I am now a fallen angel.
“Begone now, hail you.”
They cried.

The sky holds its truth — all my secrets been dropped long,
but since then, they howled,
resurfaced from the deep hole.

I am frightened.
Begone now,
begone.
seeking for help, begone now.
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