Like her tears, she fell.

Crow

I'll spread my wings and I will fly
Soaring high into the sky
But my wings aren't porcelain white
Angel wings for me aren't right
My wings are mournful, black like night
Heavy as shadows, not cloud light
Feathers are ruffled, disarrayed rows
My wings aren't an angel's, but a crow's
They're dirty as I feel, and it shows
Skin crawling with lies as the hatred grows
Trapped and unable to escape life's glow
When all I want to feel is Death's shadow.
I'll spread my crow wings and I'll fly
Soaring up into the sky.