Broken wings always feels
Sensitive even after healing
When in flight, a reason to be cautious
Or when the weather turns cold
Piercing itching pains in the bones
Like rheumatism with full grip
To make the strongest look vulnerable
Holding onto what seems like
Their very dear life
An old wound with scar
That holds old stories of a time
In the midst of the wilderness
I have seen angels fall
Broken all their wings
And walk the earth like destitute
A jump would even be a miracle
For once such powerful
Old kings from the heavens
They crouch when they walk
Slowly with fingers to the floor
Like Smeagol mumbling "my precious"
The only sign of who they are
Is from the dog's hysterical bark
When they sense their presence
Do not ever point and laugh
For ignorance on such matters
Is not bliss of blessing but a curse
For if the angels can fall
And loose their wings
What more of man w' nothing but ego
Broken wings always feels
Sensitive even after healing
When in flight, a reason to be cautious
Listen to the cautionary tales
Of the old folks and take heed
When they say, even t' mighty angels fall
What more of man w' nothing but ego
Building on quick sand so fast
A lego castle with haste, racing against time
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