The Girl and the Angel

Let me tell you a tale
A tale of a young female.
She dreamt of soaring high
Oh, how she wanted to fly!

She also dreamt of mystic beings
Pure with white feathered wings.
The angels always sang to her
In her dreams, crystal clear.

As you can imagine
Her love became a passion.
She longed to be like them;
Wearing a halo and a dress with a golden hem.

Alas, the young girl became mad
And what she did next was truly bad;
She hunted her love
And shot one out of the sky above.

The girl was a bad shot you see
And the angel could not flee
For her wings were ripped and torn
From another's shot and scorn.

The angel did not cry in dismay
When the child hacked her wings away.
She just sat in a pool of blood
When from behind her she heard a loud thud.

The girl had dropped her bloody saw
And was looking at the angel's wings on the ground in awe.
Next she pulled out a thread and needle
But could not carry on as she was feeble.

Only now that it was too late
Did she see the angel's sorry state.
The girl started to cry
And it was clear as to why;

The angel was now dead
From her wings she had bled
Until there was nothing more to shed
Except for tears from a girl so wrong in the head.

She tried to re stitch the wings
But her needle and other things
Were no longer there
And she began to panic amidst her despair.

The wings had vanished too
Oh, what was the girl to do?
Before she could decide
She got a pain in her back on one side.

The needle and wings were are now alive
And have their own sense of drive.
The needle stitches the wings to her back
Which soon open with a mighty WHACK!

The wings once pure and good
Now have a new owner as they should.
The wings are now black and torn
And belong to a young girl, so forlorn.

The little girls dream has now come true
But she has bitten off more than she can chew.
The wings have a life of their own
And now lead her to death; her new home.

The little girl now resides in Hell
Which is her eternal prison cell.
She still bears the wings, so shredded and worn
And the angel she does mourn.

So if there are any people
Who dream to fly as high as a steeple
Remember the girl and the fallen angel
It might just save you something fatal.