Marked by the fallen angel,

Your wings torn and feathers ripped in the wind.

Singed by the fire that rages within.

The mark reflects the stain of humanity

It shows and spreads as the tragedies are exposed to the naked eye.

And burns at the veins as anger and sorrow dredges its way in the bloodstream.

As bitterness takes root in the chest and blooms in hatred.

Curiouser, and curiouser, dear wanderer,

Lonely traveller, hardened by the road you walk.

Seeker of answers to secrets closed,

Seeker of the dark truths.

In them you may find salvation,

Oh, seeker of the pure soul.

Enjoy your wild goose chase for a prize that is just out of reach.

Every time you think you are one step behind you become miles away.

In this world everyone is a prisoner,

Broken twisted puppets,

Bobbling on strings pulled taunt,

Else we think for ourselves

And work our way against the tide,

For a prize that's already lost.

We're pulled under by the riptide.

To be like the fallen before us,

Such lonely little children, crying out as they are cut away like the infection.

Showing to the audience our lack of wings

Not a showing of our grace,

Let the soul shine shine bright.

Let it shout ecstasies to the heavens,

And carve songs into stardust.

Cradle the world in your hands.

Touch infinity.

People see, but they don't observe, blinded by their own petty desires.

They speak, but the words have no meaning and claw at the throat.

They fear death so much, that they do not live.

People stand in the sunshine, yet are so cold they do not soak it in.

He is, but a child forced to grow up too soon.

Hellbound to circumstance and

Earthly bound by broken wings,

Losing the internal struggle

As the grace rots.

And to the world he is forgotten.

Mountains not yet climbed,

Yearn for human touch.

Alone in the mist and sky,

Run down by the wind,

Keeling over on their knees.

Begging someone, anyone for peace.

And guess what?

Endless suffering given in its stead.

In a looping sequence,

Good things always lead to bad, and when it seems the worst has a silver lining a new worst is formed.

And yet they still sing of an unknown bliss.

Innocence is a child's dream.

Inside the dark soul.

The mirror looks back,

Weathered by the storm,

Eaten at by moths like an old sheet.

Bought once ivory and pure,

Born to be beautiful.

The common scene, a disgusting affair.

Because egg shell cracks taint,

They damage and they break,.

Wings burned from his back,

A fallen angel in demon's world.

Ending the forsaken paradise.

Dooming the children of man,

The mad drum quiets and the heartbeat fades

Silence.

And you still.

Dead among the living.

On a field of crumpled forms,

The demon cold as ice with burning eyes.

Up turns you, gazing at the vacancy

Red lips straight, emotionless.

Bodies come into this world, they live and they die.

Alone, traveling like wisps of smoke into the Veil.

Circling the drain,

Knowing that death is inevitable.

Do not fear death, it is the price we pay for existence.

The rose always withers in the end

Death does not harm, by that point all the pain is over.

Life is just harm to the soul on a silver platter.

Peel back the pretty packaging and you'll find the rotting corpse.

Every day he dies inside,

Little by little,

I die as well.

Gradually falling from grace,

Haunted eyes look back one last time,

Then the broken creature crashes to earth.

My darkness is inherent. Webbed within. Shed my shadow, Turn back, on the light.