The flames are burning brightly, but they hide behind dull eyes.

You’ll never see the passion, her perfect mask is a disguise.

As the wind blows across her face it messes up her chestnut hair.

It teases and tangles it all around, much like the chaos inside of her.

She laughs up to the sky, knowing the day will soon bring rain.

Her blue eyes now shine so brightly, for this coming storm she cannot wait.

The lightning will soon strike her, the thunder will send her flying,

into that world of make-believe, where all the creatures fly.

The tickle of her wings growing is almost too wonderful to bear,

for soon she will be safe from all who dwell down there.

No longer will they hurt her, no longer will she care,

she has earned her wings, this angel in the air.


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