Girl.
Sweet girl.
Held a light.
Held it in side.
Kept it safe.
Kept it bright.
Bright with love.
Bright with purity.
Walked through those with dust in their hearts.
Looked through those with transparent empty eyes.
Told those their sins.
They mocked her.
Witch.
Was she.
Knowledge condemned.
A blessing became a curse.
She cried.
Asked him to forgive them.
Forgive them the fear of their own ignorance.
So when the day came.
They hunted her.
Captured the beautiful dove.
Carried her.
Dragged her down.
A road traveled.
Traveled by the condemned.
Her beautiful eyes didn't shed a tear for her self.
Shed many for them.
Their mortal sin against her.
Their eternal blasphemy they would pay.
Thrown into the quarry was she.
Pined unto a cross.
She was crucified
For all their guilt.
With the last of her tears of blood.
Brilliant crimson light that they were.
She unveiled them.
One at a time.
They blinked in aw.
Stopped their cheering.
Cast out sobs did the children.
Their hearts knew.
The town had crucified a seven winged angel.
With a light of fury.
She broke free of her trappings.
Screaming in silent pain.
She rose and rained down her love.
They turned to stone.
All except the sweet untainted loving eyes of all that were true.
The children ran unto the clouds.
As the storm stopped.
She was again the sweet girl she once was.
Not a meaningless mercer for their sins.
A delouse sacrifice of their evils.
She was a seven winged angel.

 
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