father, father, why have you forsaken me?
the fallen angel screams a plethora of profanities at the downcast sky, which one so glittered with the reflection of pure stardust but has since then been cast in a crimson, hellish glow.
the white plumage of soft, downy feathers the angel flourished had changed to black, striking against pale porcelain skin.
the heavens called him traitorous, a demon of destruction wielding only pain and sorrow.
earth has not marred his beauty, his grace, for he sits alone, his wings creating a dark halo around him, and he is beautiful. he is elegance.
he is an angel fallen; the crown's downfall, the heavens' declaration of war.
he is doom.
YOU ARE READING
corazón sangrando
Poetryquiero hacer conmigo lo que primavera hace con los cerezos.
