Your Angel has fallen, my love
No more in your skies to fly
No more to live, No more to die
Flew before me as i went up the flight
From the eighth window of my tower
Held her wings i saw her leap
I followed but for my coward feet
She lay there quite all night unmoving
As i cried myself to sleep
And if morning were to come
You would see,
her blood,
Was the colour of love
5 comments:
From a deep slumber, it seems, the poet in you has arisen :)
I like it too, that you're going back to poetry. Lost the rythm in the last verse though. Still love the images it gives me. :)
sigh. rhythm.
sigh. rhythm.
Natkhat Nani.. This flight will take you to places.. You need to burn yourself... more and more.. Big Brother is watching you!
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