Friday, December 21, 2007

Who does poetry? I know I don't...not really.

So, a long time ago I wrote poetry. I still do now and again when I get really bored. So, here's a poem I wrote when I was a misguided teenager of the age of 15 or so. Feel free to laugh at it, I know I do.

The Angel Did Die

Feathers falling, like wizened white snow
Dripping and dropping, along air currents slow
Twisting in twine, under moonlit sky
Fallen and gone, the angel did die

Spiraling downward, lost chance to try
The truth is before you, I do not lie
Your guardian is gone, taken the blow
Died away, for this you should know

Hazy quills of white lackluster
Their life has ended, no endurance to muster
Complain as you might, about their death tonight
Go cry for your fallen with all of your might

The arrow has pierced their once pure breast
A quarrel of death flew through its chest
There are no more answers for your curiosity to bequest
The angels of high have fallen from nest

And now with wings black, they descend from above
Looking all the world like an unholy dove
They draw their blade to take a life
And spread more pain and further strife

It is this angel of death's minion
Falling from the heavens as the devil's pinion
Twisting in twine under a star filled sky
Fallen and gone, the angel did die

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