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Poem
Fallen through the twisted tangled web of lies, we hope to emerge and breath,

though our breath flees us quickly and we suffocate soundlessly in the dark,

and our lives are forever tossed through the green unpredictable hands of fate,

and the clear white hands of time,

and this shallow heart imitates and beat, waiting for this false pulse to be 
released.




And the song remains of a broken past echoes upon the breeze to sing with my 
flute,

my broken flute with gentle falling memories, and a final good-bye;

it fogs my vision as I move to fly forward, and this chain binds my continuously to 
the wall,

this high cornerstone wall that keeps my screams of injustice from being heard,

and the tears from being seen.




Lies keep me from being touched from a gentle caress to a lover’s embrace,

I moan and touch myself; my cheek, my arm, to warm myself against reality’s 
cold, harsh, wind, my eyes glazed over in blindness I fumble through the dark in 
an attempt to feel you next to me,

I have no soul; it was sucked from my body that day, and taken through the wrath 
of hell,

and then only then did I feel warmth.




Last time I dreamed I heard your soft voice beckoning from this hell hole I call 
home,

my blood continues to drip upon the ground, I frown, because I know that the 
same fate will befall me,

and I no longer see as twin trails of crystal tears fall to join crimson,

only the bold sapphire eyes that you have.




Evanesce evening has come again, the thin remains of sunlight descend 
through my window,

And touches my pale skin, and absorbs into the cold shelter of my body, 
surrounded by the cool strange mist, of lies and deceit, the promise of lives 
rotting, they all lay scared, abandoned,
and forgotten....

along with the freedom of my heart.




Never again shall I remain here, I’m yanking at this chain, trying to run from the 
dark fingers stretching out to me, pale and cold…

and the face within the shadows so familiar, I feel so helpless now that I see that 
it is me,

I gently bend down and look at myself, as the cold hand grabs my chain,

Yanking it until I am released, but still brusque of my wings, I stay…

Fallen.
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