"Conversations With a Prince" by Elisabeth A. Wilhelm

An angel with broken wings curled around her,

Are the ghostly remains of heavenly grace,

But now they are shattered

As

Her

Mind,

Feathers tinged in blood,

Swirling in cold winds

Tracing her scars across her palm,

The voices in her head had not subsided,

Yet they have reached their pitch,

No longer soothing and urging,

But demanding and hoarse,

So heated and raging,

She puts her bandaged fingers to her forehead,

Willing away her demons

Her defenses down,

Her body beaten, her mind

In such turmoil, she closes

Her eyes, so tired, so in pain,

So full of tears she could not spill

The voices had left her,

Her mind twisted and contorted

Empty in their wake,

Aching void, so quiet

Within her skull,

Until a silence fills her with

Cold

Darkness creeps within her,

A form of quiet, serene black,

It watches her from within,

Picking apart her thoughts,

Her searing memories

What hast thou wrought?

Why have the voices of heaven left

You so alone?

Your love for your people,

Has turned you so sacredly

Insane, so empty

What have you done to deserve such?

Her heart slowly tearing, she turns,

I cannot know, for I have sinned terribly

For God to punish me so,

The Lamb has shrieked,

Its blood upon my hands,

Leave me spirit, I cannot bear

The pain

Angel with broken wings, I can bring you

Forgetfulness, and

The cool touch to a fevered

Mind

All I ask, is you to bow to me

Offer your own neck

To me, for me to grasp

Angels’ sighs may never reach you,

God hath no power over you

Longer

Bleeding wings still curled

Tightly around her shivering frame,

She considers it

In her empty mind

My body for an eternity

Of endless silence,

No more shrieking vice,

No corrupted psyche,

And no God above

Feathers blow around her,

Still bloodied and yet so white,

Shining against the deep red

Of human suffering,

Of sacred life spilled,

Of a mortal struggle

Against inhuman odds

She wanted to laugh,

At such folly,

Why fight for such a cause steeped in

Misery and struggle?

She lowers her head to the ground,

Consent given for the Prince

To consume her whole

Forever