Too close to the sun, this innocent one,
Now I'm burned and broken and falling.
My wings all tattered, innocence shattered.
Hopeless and helpless, I'm crawling.

Come to my aid, I'll see that you're paid,
With anger and venom and pride.
Don't like what you see? However, its me,
If you strip all the feathers aside.

Parts of me lost, that was the cost.
But I can't recall agreeing to pay.
Stupid, Naive, to ever believe,
That anything golden can stay.

Ashes and dust, remains of my trust,
As I cry all alone on the train.
What use wings, such fragile things,
If you can't fly away from the pain?

Code is poetry. Valid XHTML and CSS.

All content copyright their respective authors | Bug squashing by Skuld-sama | Graciously hosted by _Quinn ­ | cwdb codebase by Alan J Castonguay

Megatokyo Writer's Archive