Her portrait in black forever posted near the mantle, the cobwebs collecting in unobtrusive corners
A wicked smile and defiant gaze, hair of jet cascading
Alabaster and porcelain, her visage captured in a state of rapture
She knows that she will live forever
As a memory
As a martyr

The echoes call her the Harlot of Heaven, she fell from grace
Six wings shredded through the atmospheric descent
The wind ripping her halo from its perch, a flash of gold eviscerated
She reaches towards the tantalizing symbol
As an icon
As an illusion

Cast from the clouds in a fury of flames, now a far cry from innocent
Her body breaks upon the silver tides of the ocean green
Frothing in the wake of a biased oppression
She succumbs to the desolate despair
As a castaway
As a custom

A sin of the heart, her mistake in believing that her superior unnamed
Allows one to love any beside him, a fallacy of faith
And she thought that forgiveness was divine
She mistakenly believed in benevolence
As a hope
As a haven

It is said that no creature could turn away, from the beatific vision once impressed
Though no amount of reflection could sway a spiritual being who turns away
Though she was rejected outright, shunned for her lapse
She has cried for far too long
As a rejection
As a renaissance

From the abyssal plains, her home for eternity, she swears a solemn vow
Though no longer the keeper of thrones, the voice, nor the cleansing agent
The burning one of noble soul, an outcast of the kingdom
She teaches truth to all who seek
As a pariah
As a prophet

A hollow gift of holy words, a forbidden kiss freely given
Renounced her name from the pages, scorched the words to ash
A fallen angel finds a purpose, a reason for being
She flashes an impish grin
As a deity
As a demon

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