Oh, Angel, Fallen from Grace,
Incandescent soul pushed to the edge,
Looks of terror, fear engulfing face
As the plummet brings you farther from the ledge,
Of Heaven, haven, solitude.
Air whipping, thrashing, pierce
Your soul to desperate shreds
The bottom so formidable, fierce
Your tattered wings forget how to fly.
Only, in that moment,
Do you realize how high
You were before the Fall.
Ground is coming ever nearer,
The sights you held dear, slipping From view.
Your fate becoming ever clearer,
As you face what is at the end.
Only to find warmth, light, and
someone to fend.
Because, as you discover,
too late,
It's not the fall from grace,
It's the fall of soul mates,
And the gown made of intricate lace
Stained with the blood
Of lost souls.
