My guardian angels turned wings against me.
Their marble faces I will never erase from my memory.
Glowing brightly white, wings turned to fire.
In a once soft embrace I felt first sizzle of hate.
I flew with them under open sky.
I didn’t feel a thing when I crushed.
No one picked what’s left of me up.
So I tore myself apart.
Guardian Angels
© Copyright: Джеймс Грей, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121081707629
Свидетельство о публикации №121081707629
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