Fallen Angel VI

 

Amidst the starlit canvas vast,

A fallen angel's fate is cast,

Her wings of darkened, frayed feathers,

Tell tales of glory lost and past.

Her locks, like midnight's silken shroud,

Veil a visage both sweet and marred,

In eyes that hold a storm's embrace,

Lies a history bruised and scarred.

Through the penumbra's twilight grace,

She glides, an enigmatic wraith,

Her gown, a rhapsody of shades,

Intertwines with the shadows' faith.

A presence mesmerizing, bold,

Radiates an unwavering will,

Her form, both delicate and firm,

Defies the darkness lurking still.

A spark of hope, tenacious, gleams,

As she strives to restore her name,

Her heart, a vessel of shattered dreams,

Bears the weight of love's tender flame.

In this tale of fragile peace,

Where sorrow and redemption twine,

The angel fallen, seeks to heal,

Her broken wings and fate's design.