Singed wings! #Dark #Poetry

The scorched wings of the dark angels don’t smell of burnt ash or singed feathers. The smell is sweet, sweet like cinnamon and cane sugar. As they descend around me I feel the force of their saddened ora filling the empty spaces of what I think is me. The leading fallen one watches as his face changes with every step closer they take. Their wings drop the sweet scented ashes around me creating an evenly pointed star, each angel finds a point to stand and stare at me with their Sinisterly enslaved eyes.

The place where the wings of the fallen master of darkness use to be, is replaced by the faces of the souls he’s collected. He snaps his finger’s and the entire room freezes , my body was unable to move. He steps off of his thrown, bigger then life he is, and many faces he wears. He switches faces once again as his symphony begins to play within, within him, within me, within them. The holder of darkness releases the singed winged angles, but he keeps me strung up and frozen on place, as the darkens do what the dark ones do.

He lifts my body into the air as the banished prince dances his dance, and the singed one still frozen at command they stare. My eyes turn black as he bends my back his faces spinning with rage. I’d come this far my heart at war but was I ready to play? My dancing shoes glued to my feet and my body missing of veins! He snaps his claws and it was law that my body unfreeze and goes smashing back to the ground. The dark one dances around, he grabs a singed one and next he pins him down.

The screams of all screams fill the underworld as the fallen prince rips the wings from the one who’d been before. I look it in it’s eyes and there my soul lies as the singed angel crumbles in ash and disappears. Now it was me the prince puppeteers my soulless body and brings me to my feet. He turns me around pins my dancing shoes down to the ground and rips two lines of my flesh from me! My face goes cold and my body was stuck as the dark one shoves the falling feathers into me.

He laughs his laughs snaps my back back and makes me face his majesty. His eyes were many and his soul was plenty but I was a much needed piece. The prince grips my neck and drags me back as he takes his thrown I squat beside and sit alone as the singed ones roam their roam. His faces spin I can’t comprehend no soul no go but it wasn’t so bad because after all it felt like home! – Donnie Sharrell

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