A beauty scurries towards its beholder
smoothing out the tracks from where it has come from.
A bottle smashes onto the ground and it scarrs till eternity; the hearing of such sound
it cries a cry so cherishing and reviving
it dies a little inside
its smile vanishes into a shower of wimpers and weeps
it has been harmed; the lovely set of wings that it has been given is stained with a moisty vermillion liquid
its eyes widen and it sheds a tear while its crimson outlet bleeds more and leaves its body circulating with nothing but regrets and outer sweats.
The angel dies; simmering down into its position
its heart squeezes, screeches, and pleas a treaty
please let me live another round; all I wanted was to do any good
I meant no harm, no anguish.. I don't deserve trauma...
If you would watch me die, right here, right now
I guarantee you I shan't follow you afterwards my death
I will guard you and remain your peace and serenity in this world
I will be your guardian angel
nonetheless you have hurt me and struck my white snow dusted wings with your posion and danger
I will forgive you and move on to the heaven's above knowing that I still have a role in this world.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁
