Fallen Angel IV

 

Beneath the moon's lamenting sigh,

An angel, fallen from the sky,

Her wings of fractured, shadowed plumes,

Recount celestial battles' cries.

Her ebony tresses frame her face,

A portrait of alluring woe,

In eyes of storm, emotions churn,

A whirlwind of regrets in tow.

She navigates the twilight's edge,

A vision steeped in mystery,

Her gown, a dance of shadows' play,

A silent ode to reverie.

A presence both enthralling, dire,

Resounds with strength and quiet pain,

Her figure, fragile, yet unbowed,

Bears witness to life's endless strain.

Gripped in her hand, a gleaming edge,

A symbol of her former grace,

A poignant souvenir of strife,

And Heaven's stern, unforgiving face.

A glint of hope still gleams within,

In search of lost redemption's hold,

Her heart, a crucible of love,

Where light and dark together mold.

Within this tale of tender woe,

Forgiveness and despair entwined,

The female fallen angel yearns,

To heal her soul and fate refined.