Angel

Every night I look down on their houses as they turn out their lights, and wish that my wings had never been clipped.  Sometimes I even wish that he had just let me fall, like the others. Instead of this hiding and clinging to stars.

I am so close to the sky. Sometimes I think that if I could just remember exactly how it was to soar through it, I would be able to again, and I could soar up, up all the way to heaven and then maybe he would…

Maybe he would strike me down,

Maybe clip my wings again.

Maybe he would just destroy me and have done with it.

Perhaps that would be better. To have it over and done with. But, where do angels go when they die?

I cling to my star.

Advertisements
Next Post
Leave a comment

3 Comments

  1. Oh, this is so sad! Well written!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: