Fallen Angel

Bare-foot in the February snow
She stands alone on the bridge
Limbs like twigs
With a mind as easily broken
Her back and shoulders bent
As if she's trying to crawl into herself
She stares into the churning water
With eyes centuries old
And shadowed by old ghosts
Her mouth agape like a jagged wound
Open in a raw and voiceless scream
As her soul bleeds from vacant eyes
She tastes salt on cracked lips
And knows she's been turned into a statue

© Darkamber 1995-2002

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