Sin City

In this city filled with stolen hearts I search for a phone booth, To dial my pain away… But I cannot hear the dialing tone. In this city filled With broken lifts I feel my heart recoiling To my primordial agony. My wings are wounded Around your ache And mine… And I scream this dreaded scream That pierces through your very soul. You’re not prepared to encounter All of my horrors, Or my wings that sore… But I’m still your little Sedated angel! In this city filled with sins The beasts inside grow hungry As their souls stained with famine Bite into my wing… I see hollow birds Flying toward the sands Endeavoring to see Beyond my scornful wing. I shred myself from Old newspaper gossip And try to fly with My fatigued wings, But I’m just a tiny sedated Angel... what a sin! © 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila