| Sustained and bordered by sweet planetary bouquet. Patina skins inside fruitful music, her kindred plays. Celestial grace bathes her spirit in love absolute, yet questions remain of frozen worlds long hushed. Between breaths of colour her divine world splits. Devoured by black yawning chasm, she embraces futile space, as the ebony stage is set, each illumination captive. A colossal bed greets her with a heavy quagmire blanket. Fallen, her wings are weighted, devoid of granted liberty. Fallen, on grazed and tender knee, she folds diluted �This is not her home�, a thousand candles flicker, while oblique chins raise protest to the seventh heaven Legions of gardens comfort as waterfall tones assure, �If you were not fallen you would be heaven bound.� |
| Fallen |
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