I am a fallen angel of life’s antiquated dreams
Shriveled, used, and tossed away.
Dreaded anticipations of requited abuse loom above these broken wings.
The weight of the world’s wretchedness denies my urgency to flee.

My soul has become a barren wasteland from evilness, loss, and despair
Love turned itself into a monarch butterfly,
Beautiful on its maiden summer’s journey through,
On to its homeland it glides effortlessly along the summer’s warm, stirring breezes.
Unattainable, yet close enough to a beggar’s grasping hand to cause a longing desire
For what fantasies whisper in our ears,
Teasing with their tales about what might have been.

Sprinkle fairy dust on these tired and featherless wings please.
Let me loose of these chains holding me a witness to what I can not bear to see.
Renew my spirit, once unequaled by men of bravery and strength,
So that it may soar amongst the pillows puffs of clouds,
That might once again I reach high enough to plant angel kisses in the tops of centurion trees.
Allow myself to fill with primal needs of both men and angels alike.

This winged creature can no longer sustain inside this
Cage of worldly discontent, hatred, and greed.

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