Were it upon humbled knee
Nor to be head slung low
Where once brilliance
And wonder so brightly laid
Upon those shoulders
And sewn into lace
Worn to wad of cloth
stained of pitch and age
The fallen
Lay
This far from grace
Because of will
Of man
Fallen
This angels quest beseached
Not tear from eye
Is cried
But moan and crush
One once true will
And tarnish stay
Upon halo so loosely dangled
from vanquished fingertip
Her charge
nay, all men
a young man, so frail
youth-hardy
be it just foolish
denied all she offered
A loosened wing feather
blemish upon perfect skin
for all denials
ten fold her failure
Upon the world
the world upon him
The fallen
can do no more
strength, is no more
Defenseless
this young man
now must travel
face the great, wondrous, evil
travels of life
with now, no more
than his bare hide
between him and it all
