Paper Light Bones

Angels.

The top of our ideals.

The purist of the pure.

So white and strong.

No sign of evil.

No twinge of a bad dead.

They sit ontop,

Those clouds of white.

Looking down so powered,

No sign of fright.

But what about the wings,

They bare on their backs?

All feathers and bones,

Lighter then paper.

They look so strong,

So full of might.

You always think ,

Nothing bad could come 

To the angels up their looking so strong.

Until you see the fallen.

Down on their knees,

Praying for forgivness,

Crying for redeption.

They plead to get those mighty wings

Put back into place

Where that scar now lays.

They claw for the clouds .

Those wings of pure white,

Now that the power is gone,

Now that the sins have been done.

What else is left,

But to sit and drone?

They cry and they plead.

Those wings they so desire.

Those wings of pure white,

Those bones paper light.

The sight of the others,

Cut their insides.

Worse then the scar that they wish they could hide.

They gaze at the white,

Until they can take no more.

A razor to the eyes,

And the white is cut to red.

The purity covered in blood,

Withered and gone.

No hope is there.

No power turns their way.

What becomes of the fallen?

Once so proud and strong?

They spiral down to the hard rocky bottom,

They never dreamed they would hit.

But look where they are,

All for the love of the white wings.

And those paper light bones.

Reviews

[StarSandwich]

^_^ It flows nicely, I actually Loved it.
This is a good view on angels, I like how you say 'What becomes of the fallen? Once so proud and strong?' that bit was rather awesome. It makes sense and I can follow it quite easily. :D Very creative.