Tainted Angel

Crimson drops stain crystalline white
The stark contrast a harsh glare, even to uncaring eyes
Cold wind whips the face of one formerly childlike in innocence
But now angelic in tainted glory of terror unknown
A bare stone holds a name, making it not so bare
In its startling profession of truth
The truth that life will come and life will go
No matter how much denial may avoid
Darkening, the stream is a deadly scarlet
Fatal in its lie of hope
Hope that the world will end for the angel
And none shall be tortured with pain-
A foolish love for one so broken.