Written by: Yanny Widjanarko

The lost little Angel was fell into the urban slums
Walking aimlessly with nothing but her broken wings
Blossom into granules of dusts, intangible as a vagabond

Her heaven plucked as the moonlight stolen, the intangible vagabond
Her sanctity made her glowed illuminate those souls who ingested by the slums
However flagellation in disguise filled the story of her wonderful flawed wings

Trace stitches by stitches of her wings
Her world plays deception in those eyes who marked her as a vagabond
In fact she just an imperfect little Angel and they are the slums

Rose from the slums, the wings tore the shield of a vagabond

Honorable mention
Introducing Tritina (a new poetry form for you!)
Sponsor	Andrea Dietrich