This is the segment where I let a little bit of what exists beyond the tourist sites in my brain dribble out for you to see. This time its an old poem of mine that I found about ten minutes ago. I think it was about my character Tristan Sorrow, but I don't remember.
Fallen Angels Don’t Have Hearts
Born in sorrow, blood and bone
When treacherous Heaven espied
Malicious mistakes in a lost heart
Cast out while angels cried
Wandering in a unknown wasteland
So far from the comforts known
Blackened wings spread in supplication
While a hatred inside had grown
Where light once beat beneath the breast
Now festering darkness coiled
Cursed now to sorrow and rage
Until insouciant Heaven is foiled
A hand is raised to the stars above
And falls as they turn away
Never to feel their gaze again
Forsaken ‘til Judgment Day
Dismissed as simply broken
A soul beyond disrepair
Crawled beneath the barren earth
To shun the sun’s harsh glare
Betwixt the moon and trees
Unseen by the blinded stars
A crown of thorns is passed
A son of prophecy it bescars
And when Judgment Day arrives
Blackened wings shall rend the white
A heartless soul will mourn
The death of Heaven’s light.
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