Love

What art thou?

Art thou afraid to touch an angel?

To fly with the wind beneath thy wings over an ocean so blue?

Why doest thou doubt the one that lets thee love?

Has thy faith been stolen by a worker of Lucifer?

Or has thou hidden it behind a wall of fear?

Doest thou enjoy casting away the faith, hope, and love of those around thee,

To make thyself at eas with thy own misfortunes?

How dare ye betray such a trust give by a mere peasant,

Whom treats thee like a royal! 

Doest thou not know the beauty of a rose disappears when treated with haste and neglect?

Thou art no majesty!

A coward art thou whom hides behind a mask! 

Royalty thou art not!

'Tis a coward!

Under thy make of a mask hides the guilt!

Shamefulness!

Why crush a fallen angel from Heaven above!

Imperfections as great as the rising sun.

Art thou truly blind to the burden of longing purification and acceptance she seeks?

Another burden doth she posses.

Sculpting an angel of the masked man. 

What be this? 

LOVE.