My Fallen Angel

My Fallen Angel
He has black magic in his voice,
And I’m under his spell
Apollyon, he sits waiting
At the sheer cliffs of Hell
With my soul hanging in balance 
I can’t but wonder why
Of all the sins of mortal flesh 
For me he will defy
The reason of his creation 
The purpose of his being,
Am I this angel’s temptation?
Then why does my heart sing
In agony and in ecstasy 
Just once to hold him close?
If I am to be his Lillith
I’d have more strength, suppose? 
Yet no, I am but virgin clay
To be molded, desired
In any and in every way
Tempered in his fires.
Held captive in his seduction 
And drowned in ocean eyes,
I let him wrap me in his wings 
And fly us to the skies.
I am not me, I cannot be
Till entwined in our love
And guilty of purity, we 
Are Fallen to above. 



Wow, a week already. Here’s a hurrah for that! And the to people who are following my blog, thank you ever so much. You don’t know how much I appreciate the encouragement. Much love! =)

I’ve always had a particular fascination for angels. I suppose it’s natural, in a way, to be envious of the guileless purity they signify. What enamors me more in the many books I’ve read recently, is their human aspect more than their faultlessness. Something about angels being only human too? That paradoxical statement probably gives away a lot about my psyche, it is rather open to interpretation, but I’ll stand by it, just what I think, that’s all.


I suppose I’m rambling again, but I don’t want this blog to be some sort of monologue where I prattle away. More of a Socratic discourse, I think, would be more beneficial all round. So feel free to join the babble. Tell me what you’re doing, what you would like to read, or what you would like me to write about. Tell me what you think. 🙂