An angel

A hooded lie
these endless skies tell
an innocent surprise
where my angels dwell

They hover and fly
looking down at us
little do they know our faiths rely
on their wings of dust

At length it comes
a distant shadow of a dream
it wakes you up and breaks you down
until you hear yourself scream

A written word is louder
than a spoken thought
an unsaid feeling stronger still
Am I the victim of the faith I sought?

I don the role of the angel
only to have my wings cut down
reality is fortunately stranger
than my pen’s fictional sound

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