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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1676937
Experimental poem. Just getting going on here.
Angel wings caress my skin,
Soft on rough tear-stained flesh.
No longer feeling the pain,
That world of Earth brings.
Bittersweet joy blooms in my breast.
It is time for me-- time to rest.

Angel feathers, brushing me,
As the beat the sky in rhythm,
With my heartbeat's pulse.
My eyes close in relief,
And exhaustion sweeps over me,
As back home they carry me.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1676937-Angel-Wings