Fallen Angel
Who clipped your wings, sparrow?You sharpen the blades of sorrow.
Blood stains wool as a final breath runs loose in the pasture.
The tree burns blue, but your soul
burns black.
Warm tears fall from hollow eyes.
You rev your chainsaw, spilling gas on scarred tissue...
Grrr... Vroom... Crackle.
The night is still young for a soul so old,
so used...
You are labeled and misunderstood.
Crackle, crackle.
Mommies angel,
how did you come to this?
Spatter, spatter.
You whipe the marrow off your chin.
Bones crack so easily under the pain of a taken life.
Poor, poor fallen angel.
By: Brandi Deacon
2010
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