Poetry for the Damned.

I have fallen, my wings are tattered.
With the hand of wrath, he sparks a match, which sets my wings alight.
Confusion takes hold, my soul has been charred, yet i know i'll leap again.
The light is what i seek
Darkness is what i find.
Entrapped in this doom, that i know as my life.
Still i search.
Still i pray.
Why?
There's a voice i hear who sothes my sorrow, and mends my wounds.
She speaks of freedom, she speaks of love.
She whispers at night, and tells me to fly.
This is why i search.
This is why i pray.
My eyes are sealed shut, for sound alone scares me enough.
If i saw what i heard, she'd leave.
My prayers would stop,
I'd cease to search.
For she gives me hope of a better tomorrow.
Yet tomorrow never comes. Today is all i know.
In this place time is evasive.
In this place there is no dawn.
NIght is all we have, though the stars are not welcome here.
They are the holes through which i see the light.
Holes for the damned to peer into heaven.
They are what i reach for,
Through the stars is where i lay.
She tells me this hell is my own.
That it is i who lights the match.
She says if i open my eyes, the flames are not real,
and the screams cannot be heard.
But my eyes are sealed shut, and i refuse to see.
Still i search.
Still i pray.