The Fallen

Dear Hope,

When you are around me I hear the whisper of demons, but in my eyes I see an angel.

Your hands are a vice grip on my hips with malicious intents, but all I can feel are your divine kisses on my neck that have me saying prayers.

You burn my mouth with your uninvited kisses, but all I can taste is your halo as it lights me up from the inside.

You stomp on my soul until there is nothing left, yet I still see your wings.

Forever and Always,

Your Lover

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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