She was one of the little ones, but grew
Over ancient times, her wings were
A beauty to behold with a
Raven,
Onyx,
Shimmer
With hints of crimson red that delicately bled
Patterns of shadows death.
Her veins glistened in luminosity,
Ever corrupted was this purity of light.
For she would upon a nail graze upon her finger
Her vein bled. And into the wind would
White butterflies search out innocence
Landing upon purities skin.
Blackened,
Flesh,
Tainted
With the kiss of a butterflies touch, and
The blossom of her wings flew upon the breeze.
All that were graced with translucent butterflies.
Fell in to the blooms sickness, hallucinogenic
Madness of butterflies maroon wings bled.
Flourishing in the mind, bleeding eyes
Caressed by her wings of death.
Always her anger towards those who
Forgot,
Disbelief,
Neglect
The thought of a winged expectation. With but
A thought another's wings did crumble into dust and
From heavens wonder did do many fall.
The wings bled more angelic death,
For those unbelievers were to breathe last breath.
She had cradled her sister as wings fell to ash,
Each was but a laughter now soaked in tears.
Fear her, for those who she hears disbelieve. For with another wing
Clipped another hundred of those know of man have fallen still .