Musings and Snoozes

Even scarred hearts have wings

on April 28, 2016


Wings touch, as beauty fades. So close that the breath of an angel couldn’t separate us.
Although she did. The moment our hearts came within touching distance, we fell apart.
The fine line between desire and destruction broken in an instant, lost forever, as feathers tumble slowly to the ground.
The wind carries just one. Soft and white, pure, like snow, but tinged with red remains, as if to prove that love does not come without sacrifice.
They might say that it is the angels who teach us love, but I beg to differ. Sometimes it’s the red remains of the demons who show us who we really are.


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