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alycat92 - Gone — Description
Angels with broken wings,
Are like roses without thorns.
Even the stars weep for them,
Whilst the clouds shield the moon as it mourns.

Observing the pale perfection of ghosts,
The angels weep in frustration.
The beauty of which they could boast,
Gone, and with it, salvation.

Any chance of redemption is slim,
The road to salvation dark and harrowing.
Around them lie feathers, broken and dim,
Their souls torn with petty quarelling.

Their wings are shattered and torn,
Their souls barren and despairing,
But their heart refuses to mourn,
In the face of the uncaring.