#1
my first post in quite a while (yikes!)
I've never really tried anything like this. rend this into pieces if you must, as long as it holds some constructive thoughts that is


Fly away, beautiful angel
With wings blotting out the sunlight,
You are leaving me in opaque tranquility.
Ill-content.Confused.Corrupted.
The mind-frame of the fragile artist
Is shattered and sundered,
By perfection taking wing.

How does one measure perfection?
Be it by natural beauty and divine ambition?
No fair one, beauty holds no root to the earth,
Ambition flares and burns out, as a flame with no fuel
Perfection, love, is measured by the spirit of the angel
And how presence and tongue...
Cause the heart to shudder with desire.

How does the artist deal with perfection,
When it suddenly darts away?
Beyond reach, beyond sight.
His cries will rend the skies in two
As he calls for the angel to return
into his arms, forever secure in his ideals.
Except, fair one...

Perfect angels don't exist anymore.
#2
Nicely done. I imagine someone reading this as poetry in a dark coffee house. maybe with some shakers or a tambourine. could very well be developed into a full song, reminds me of incubus sort of.