Torn
Piecemeal
I tried to touch the hand of God and lost my wings of innocence. the truth became sour poison, lying sweet to the taste, what am I if not a demon; from a lamb to all I hated.
I tried to embrace and covet what I tried to destroy. what have i become? in a quest for purity,
I've become stained, my motives twisted and lost in my ambitions. through the eyes of angels, I saw a world of chances. on the thorns of decadence my wings were torn. my wings were torn.
my saviors image not unlike mine, still so distant, countenance, unfamiliar, and threatening.
I am my own seed, my own creation, with malicious intent I turn on my father to kill my son. all that I was, I have lost.
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