Fallen Ones

what if hell is not a place, but a state of life?

We are all angels.

F

  A

   L

     L

       E

     N

O

       N

   E

    S.

This already is hell, our hell. 

We bear our own curses, 

the symbols of our downfall.

Mine is the knowledge 

that this is happening. 

And I am not enlightened enough 

to do anything about it.

Author's Note

this was one of my early poems. I would appreciate any criticism since I intend to hone my crafts through listening to more seasoned poets.