Fallen

Where to begin

I don't know where to begin my story, and I think it's a long one...

I suppose I should start with the not so far from the beginning,

I'm not the luckiest person in the world,

Well I used to be,

I just basically fallen out the sky.

Well maybe literary.

After all I'm a 'angel'.

Well that's the past and now for more of the past.

So I'm a exiled, not Fallen.

The angels are basically more evolved.

Were originally prehistoric humans for the taste of flying.

And since we believed that we were better we isolated ourselves from our 'lesser' counterparts.

We lived on mountains, and our lungs adapted, the only time we were seen is when the sky was golden, we had our skin adapt to, their wasn't much food up in the mountains so we lived of sunlight the humans call it photosynthesis. 

The idea of God is that 'we' believe ourselves so important that we set guidelines for the humans, a person called Jesus was a 'icon' to us and the others, he gave the others the guidelines and then he faked his death then came back, I won't go into detail but we basically own what we think our 'lesser' selves.

But one thing with us is that the others learned compassion, I learned this at a young age when others loved being over them I wanted to understand them.

Some of them are mean, but most of us are mean.

Not many of us are nice (very small number).

But most of them are nice, (large portion).

But the peculiar thing is that why am I so different?

I have the same blood as everyone else, (tested)

I have my wings, (genetic)

My lungs, (same as above)

In other words I should be a perfect 'angel'.

But I'm not.

And now that's history.