Di Angeli

By eske

Stained black with small lines as canals.
The flow of grace is red yet looks black,
broken, fallen and given up.
Spitting blood out and bleeding from the inside,
it's hard to swallow your heart again.
Your throat is throbbing and your heart
sweats red as you force it back down into your chest.
Eyes blind gray saw in color that day and you stayed.
O' she achieved what most mortals are afraid of.
Here you are drowning in your own pool of blood.
Red stained clothes as you lay on the floor,
it looks like you're melting red.

It looks like you're melting red.
The gray eyes you had once are now colored inside the lines.
The iris is red and the pupil strong black.
Thought you were eyeless didn't you?
White feathers rain on you and they land on the red pool.
Purity stricken red and here you sit looking far.

Purity stricken red and here you sit looking far.
The angels carrying you were shot down and killed.
You lay in nothing but their remains, feathers and blood.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2010 eske
Published on Tuesday, March 2, 2010.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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