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
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