They call her pure,
But what do they know.
For being an angel,
She's increadibly tainted.
Her wings wernt sliver,
Nor did her halo shine bright.
She was one of the few who was trapped...
Trapped between heaven and hell.
No longer immortal,
But not yet fallen.

Singing songs of the dusk..
Out of place in days light,
She lingers where day turns to lightless, sightless night.
In the depth of this night she hides,
Raped by her lonlyness,
Tortured by her fear.

She no longer minds her plight,
As she has suffered from it for all her years,
So instead of screaming,
She waits paitently
For the mornings first light.

A morning star greets the rising sun.
This tainted angel watches on in awe,
Her grey-black wings, and her tarnished halo
Marking her for what she once was.

No longer pure and no longer bright,
She hides what remains of her beauty.
Sleeping in the damp and the dark,
Refusing the presence of others...

Once a child had seen her,
In the guise of a mortal.
Hed smiled and asked his mother
If that angel had come to help him.

His mother apoligised,
Not seeing with a childs eyes.
She'd smiled her sad smile, kneeling by him,
Saying that the angels'd watch over him
Till the day when he no longer saw them.

In that childs eyes she was still what she had once been...
If only she could find someone
Who could see her with those childs eyes,
Maybe hed redeem her,
Or maybe hed just lover her...
But either way,
There would come a day,
When she wouldnt be alone.
 
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