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An Angel with a bent halo and broken dreams
It seems that there are very few Angels left in this city
Just people with bent halos and broken dreams
They have been taught that their wings are useless
So they refuse to make use of them
But I heard you used to fly
However these days you seem scared of heights
You rather drive, walk, take the bus or the train
Anything to keep you low on the ground
Keep you safe
You seem to have a really good hiding place for your emotions too
Sometimes, even you can’t find them
But I imagine that your words
Are like fig leaves
That dance to the sound of opinions that refuse to be silenced
The faith in your sentences
Can make an ocean question the beauty of its own waves
Because I believe that even though they’re not many Angels left, one day you will fly again
