I fell down freely, spreading wings with pride,
While stinging winds against my face were thrown.
With cruel disdain, ignoring all I’d tried,
A hundred haughty souls stood there, full-blown.
With hollow eyes and smiles once sweetly feigned,
They hid their arrogance and mocking scorn.
All those who after fame so fiercely strained,
Now watched me, pressed by malice, tattered, worn.
You na;ve ones—no pardon will be found,
Don’t wait for alms or pity from my hand.
I’ll gladly cast you all into the ground,
With my sly smile, I’ll mock your hollow stand.
My wings, now gleaming with a crystal light,
Shall pass the verdict, brief and justified:
The crowd of fools condemns itself to night,
On their own souls, dark envy’s stain will hide.
Fallen Angel
© Copyright: Викки Мун, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №225111601932
Свидетельство о публикации №225111601932
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