-
Flying perfect in the sky.
On a pedestal up so high.
Always perfect, never wrong.
Just a bird singing a joyful song.
Happy, love, never sinned.
At least that’s how it began.
Now I’m falling down to Hell.
Why, all could easily tell.
I was bird, flying high.
But now I fell, and now I die.
- Title: The Fall
- Artist: Syd Roh
- Description: a short poem
- Date: 07/07/2009
- Tags: fall hell death poem
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...