these blood spattered wings

in tortured solitude

i stand at will

lost in force

and chained to sill

air i breathe,

but cannot own

a wounded heart

on desperate loan;

angry days

but just sad –

at night,

reach out for arms

to hold me tight.

formed of glass

in search of wines

sunk somewhere

between the lines,

wrap my arms

around my might

soft angel lost

in lonely fight…

About lifeofawillow
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