Hope is like angel wings,
Light and softness; lifting you into the air.
But even angels lose their wings,
And like Lucifer I have fallen.
From grace, from Heaven; into the pits of Hell, into darkness
I have become the queen,
Ruling from a throne made from the bones of who I was.
There is no warmth.
Warmth comes from hope, and I have none.
Hell is not a place,
But it is what I call home.
