Cast down from the path of perfection; neglected re-entry at the gates. No chance for redemption.
As feeble rain she falls unto thirsty lands. Shedding her wings, evolving stings. She unlearns to understand.
Scavenging for scraps from the heavens where once she was fledged; with hunger she clings unto sanities edge.
Yearning for water; inside she’s burning.
Burning for life which is fleeting in strife. So fierce the confusion, its pierced with a knife.
There, now lifeless her body dangles, in the eternal tale of Angel’s angle.
-Jorge Robleto & 7