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tattered and torn
broken, fallen
there is nothing left but a void
the ashes carried by the wind
my wings broken and i can't fly
i lie on the ground, bleeding
my eyes remain closed behind a black frame
containing pieces of broken glass luckily still in the frame
my eyes remain closed
tears flowing from them as i silently whispered your name
and blood seeping through my wounds
wounds that i gained after my fall,
and wounds from my melancholic past
scars still visible and threatening to bleed again
my wings splattered with red patches
patches of my blood
the wind is cold and harsh
i make my wings cover myself, even though it hurts to move them
cover myself
because i feel so naked now
so naked and cold and lost without you
i cannot bear to open my eyes
knowing that you won't be in front of me
you won't be the first thing i see
your breath not the first thing i feel on my face
your hair not the first thing i feel on my forehead
i lie here tattered and torn
a broken,
fallen
angel,
a beautiful tragedy.