Floating in mid air,

I let my wings rest,

I have given my all,

Done my best

-

The feeling of rain,

running down my body,

Exhausted and bloody,

Of fight called life

-

Shriek of an eagle I hear,

From the high depths of sky,

No power to fight,

But too scared to die

-

Another shriek to be heard,

It have gave me will,

Will to fake from my lumber,

And open my wings

-

This last thing I do might be,

Last time I will fly,

Watch to the worlds end,

Last time I open my eyes

-

World is black as I fall,

Our wings are tangled,

Together we fall,

This last enemy of mine and me

-

Last time I open my eyes,

Just to see the sun die,

Night has fallen,

And falling am I

-

The moon shows me it's face,

I set myself free,

I can feel the wind,

I can once again see

-

-

A/N: Wynn. My very first tale telling poem. It's about an angel eventought you most probably can't catch it on the poem itself. And it's up to you to deside what those last four senteces tell grin