Fallen

Dewdrops captured in eyes of coal
The gaze of the fallen soul
Eternally mournful of mistake
They sigh upwards in waxing want

Brittle luster of flexing wings
Feathers of the damned shuffle
Flightless birds walk the land
Unable to reach desired height

Birds of prey, earthbound
In a cage of atmosphere
They scavenge for salvation
Scrapping for a hope

The search of redemption
Turning only empty husks
A shell of what used to be
Empty of sustenance, void

Labor bearing fruitless return
Only earning another thorn
Pinching their sides
And piercing what’s left
Of their hearts

– Awkward Babble 2011

poetry

Published by Awkward Babble

I'm a lazy workaholic and a talkative introvert. I'm a lonely hermit and a loving fighter. I'm an organized mess and an anal retentive slob. I'm indecisively decisive and a concise babbler. I'm stoically empathetic and unsympathetically kind. I'm bluntly tactful and passionately diplomatic. I am awkwardly charming and an antisocial butterfly. I am Awkward Babble View all posts by Awkward Babble