Fallen Angel 8/15/2006

I once was an angel high up in heaven,

I was a guardian angel,

Magnificent blue wings,

Flowing radiant hair,

Powerful arms,

My person was a beautiful crimson creation,

Pale white skin,

Eyes blue as the ocean’s vastness,

A figure of earthly perfection,

She was my conduit to protect,

I aided her in her ventures,

She never saw me or thanked GOD for my intercedance when I helped her,

Her beauty was unbearable; it got to the point were I desired her for my self,

I had to reveal myself to put aside my burning for her,

This is a dangerous path for me,

If I give into earthly desire I will be cast out of heaven; wings clipped and human,

She is worth the risk,

I make myself seen to her,

I reach for her; for a moment she sees me in my finest,

My exuberance exposed to her,

A light from above shines down engulfing me,

Fire scorches my back; my wings are gone,

The light subsides; she is there before me,

I reach for her again; but this time she pulls back from this crumpled heap in front of her,

No longer magnificent my body’s a ruined mess,

My beautiful crimson conduit is gone; she was my beast of burden,

Her beauty consumed me, made me give in to desire and evidently brought upon my

Demise,

I gave up my immortality and closeness to GOD for earthly desire,

Now I suffer the fate brought upon me by my hands,

In this world no one wants to know me or even cares,

I am not even fit to protect myself,

I am gawked at by passerbys day after day I can not move,

Days turn to weeks and weeks to months,

Months to years and years to decades,

The world knows me as, “the heap of mess that does not move yet lives”,

After centuries the ground beneath absorbs me,

Down to the deep I do travel to be ensnared by satan and his demons,

Stuck in a cage slowly being lowered into the molten lava below,

I see a movement to my left…no it can’t be my crimson conduit is before me,

She is down here because I was not there to guide her,

She suffers due to my down fall,

Lava all around me; my head about to go under but able to pray, “sorry father”.


By Robert Morfin Gonzalez