Broken Wings

I remember that day,
So well and clear,
The day the angels,
Drew so near.

I hear an agonizing cry,
Like someone dying,
As they fall,
From the sky.

She sits up,
Although it causes her pain,
Broken wings,
Fractured again.

She smiles so sweetly,
But I can see it will stay only briefly,
Like a flickering candle in the wintry wind,
She too will go out.

She crawls so gingerly forward,
Bloody feathers trailing through the snow,
Devil’s mark upon her arm,
Fallen angel.

She speaks,
Her story pouring from her mouth.
She owes the Devil her soul,
And hugs her knees to pray.

I place a hand on her head like an old friend,
While she weaps in silence in my arms,
Tears and blood mix
In the snow by our feet.

I start humming while her sobbs abate,
Good King Wenceslas,
She joins me in heavanly choir,
A song so sweet melancholy.

I tell her,
Fallen angel,
I had fallen too.
So different were the paths we had chosen,
Only to end up in the same place.
Don’t give up hope,
I told her,
You are not the first to make this mistake.
Because
So many know,
So many have said,
‘Freedom is not free!’
And let me tell you,
Maya Angelou,
The caged bird and I sing in harmony.

Cut the ropes,
I’ll break free of my chains,
Because even with broken wings…


…I can fly…