Something I wrote when I was 12 or 13 and losing my religion.
I’m no angel of the heavens high
Angels with wings of silvery white;
Feathers, of identity that glorify
Glory that lives in strength and might.
I don’t belong in the heavens above.
What is heaven, sinking into pillows of neon light
Possession of cherubs and seraphs
As stars, Polarises of the night.
I’m here, in a world of the damned.
A fractured shield demons trespass
Here upon evil dwell
Of mortals, not eternal.
When darkness starts to blacken the endless sea
And a crow starts to sing
A feather on the ground, I wish to see.
We’re only humans, no such wings.
Vivien Marie Lopez