Fallen Angel

By Sapphirefly

A man resting in the clouds,

Yet not quite a mortal man,

Gazing on the world below,

Knowing there he cannot go.

On the vapour he stood,

He spread his crystal wings,

Dreaming he could soar there,

Want to breathe the mortal air.

As he leaned about to spring,

A recollection flooded him.

If he left his home above

He couldn’t return to its peace and love.

Knowing nothing of the place

He sprang to the earth.

Flying, or it seemed so,

To such a place of woe.

On his back he landed,

Shattering his lovely wings.

He stood now seeming mortal

But still very immortal.

The light drained from him.

Truth lost to him.

Now in his private hell,

Now a fallen angel.