An Angel’s Tale

An Angel’s Tale

Once there was a pretty child,
Much more selfless than an other,
More selflessness than she could wield,
The surplus love became a bother.

Abused by them she ever trusted,
Ripped apart by imitation,
So many wounds that never crusted,
For pain there is no limitation.

Stained by blood from broken wings,
She fell to ground and drowned in tears,
The hope for all the pretty things,
Gave away for aching fears.

Branded by the human stain,
She suffered for the hope of love,
She gave her life to end that pain,
At her grave, a single clove.

Withered, desiccated, wasted,
Lifeless unbeloved flower,
All the things it never tasted,
Buried by a deadly shower.