Decay of an Angel

On a quilted blanket under the sun

She lies beneath the living sky

And wings - meant to make her soar,

Fueled to lift her into tomorrow

Well above the world around her,

Carrying her up toward all that she could be -

Tremble at the softness in his eyes,

Shudder at the taste of his hunger,

Quake at the flavor of his lies,

And begin the ground-ward journey

     Sliding down her back,

          Slipping along her spine

              Until they find their new home

                    In her hips and along her thighs

                        Where they can no longer open to fly,

Where they can only wrap around him

                                    Giving him a fleeting, pale taste of the heaven

                                           Her soul had been born to achieve.

© H. Newberry, 2014