For my next trick, I'll turn shit into gold
My greatest inspiration for creativity is pain; especially since I have so much of it to draw from. Here's a couple pieces I just finished:
Fallen Archangel
Visions of splendor and presence of might; these used to be my home
I committed a sin that cast me down, so now I am alone
Few people will ever befriend me, for without I appear a monster
Closed minded ones don't care to understand; they keep me angry and bitter
The few who look deeper brighten my day
They see what I was and could be
They look past the surface to a brighter and better me
Their care and concern cannot erase, though, the stain that darkens my heart
There is a turmoil that burns inside and threatens to rip me apart
A war between good and evil rages on in my soul
A tempestuous choice that plagues me still
A pain that no one can know
I now struggle forward in shadow and night with the burden I must bear
As darkness and light fight over me; each wanting to make me theirs
Since friends and love come and go, I rely solely on myself
I have no need for power
Or fame, applause, or wealth
What friends can I have?
What peace can there be?
No hope can aid, nothing can help
The cause of someone like me
…For I am a fallen Archangel
Hummingbird
I fly in ways most only dream of
Or I'm supposed to, at least
But, how can I, most able of birds, even hover with such weight on my feet?
The burden I carry is my heart; all battered and broken and bruised
It happened from people who claimed to care, but to whom I was simply a tool
My allies are close and honorable, albeit few and scattered
They're there for good times and bad alike
And the places where my heart had shattered
My circumstance, though, leads me to believe that I am without even hope
For I live in a cage besides the weight that hangs by the end of my rope
I have no escape, save for death's cold embrace, from the prison that now is my home
All of these things keep me in my chains
I can't fly for I am still alone
And, so this is me, 'hind glass for all to see
With my beak in a constant frown
How then can I gain any will to fly?
Such a poor little hummingbird, weighed down