Angels That Fall
If tattered wing were meant to be,
then beauty fully rests on me.
How difficult they say to fall from Heaven's light,
yet they refuse to help the one in sight.
If angels were mean to scream as their wings turn black,
as their bodies shatter into dust,
then how pitiful I must be to not make a single sound.
How those above aren't so proud.
If life turned me into a demon that roamed the Earth,
doesn't a part of me still have a light inside?
Even though my job is to haunt the night?
Yet I still cannot understand what is right.
If he whose name I must not call
forgives me for my fall,
why does those past sins still come back every day?
Am I supposed to be reminded this way?
If that old saying to forgive but not forget
comes back to me today,
why do I feel that they haven't forgiven me in any way?
These questions are without an answer to be found.
If my words mean nothing to the ones above,
why keep me to drown in my thoughts.
However, I already knew this from the start;
that life has no forgiveness for the angels that fall into Hell.
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