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Last Offering by Lelia Thomas

Feathers grab hold of dust on the breeze
As you sit upon your mountaintop and look upon the city–
Chin in hand, saddened face, another sinner among the many.
What was pure–now smeared with grime.

A single tear rolls down that hawk-like nose
To fall in sand, to be eaten whole,
For the world you love pays no heed to a man’s soul.
But you knew that, when you fell and broke your wings.

With a crease upon your porcelain forehead,
You stare at the dull, cloud-barren skies.
Cracked lips give way to cries as floods fall from blind eyes–
The last offering of a fallen angel.

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Written in 2005. What must angels feel like when they have fallen from grace.