Fallen Angels


We hide behind being “kind”
We dwell under the shadow of “nice”
But our past has made us winter
We are actually nothing but ice

The last of our love burns fast
Its flame is barely warm
In secret, we are not who we seem
We are far from what’ve we sworn

Our smiles distract the masses
We put our masks on display
But we are broken and bitter
At the end of each November day

We’ve lost what we tried to protect
Behind closed doors, we are our demons
Tortured by the past of every Fall night
For our past lover’s sins


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