Faith of the Fallen

Heaven sent fallen angel, bundled against winters chill,
Standing there by Gods house, pleading for change.
Your grace bears with it a nobility; a silent piety,
Envied by Father.
Your eyes echo blue vaults of heaven,
Stained red by tears; brought by misdeeds of man.
They have used you,
Rough hands pawing: bruising your flesh and soul,
But you endure; your sprit as constant as distant Polaris.
You rise each morning as the lotus,
Carving beauty from filth and degradation.
I have seen you, as no less then my self, unlike all those pious men,
Who seek only to pity you, and see less then them.
“Their eyes blind: see no beauty,
Their hearts bare: feel no love.”
Your words spoken to me that morning; such wisdom,
Such faith for the fallen.