Image credit: Kanea
My wings are not those
Of an angel
Not light
No feathers of white
Caress my back
Instead they are steel
And claw and bone
The wings of a dragon
Flying alone
My wings are not pure
Falling from heaven
Like a star
No hymns to my coming
Will fill the sky
Instead there’s the rush
Of the wind far beneath me
As I fly to the moon
All alone
(c) Helen Valentina 2015 All Rights Reserved
helenvalentina 
And such are the wings that will make you go on. For long. There’s only harm being angelic in this world. The pure gets spoiled too soon.
Nicely penned. 🙂
Thanks so much! 🙂
At least they work.
True! Thanks John! 🙂
Ha ha ha
Reminded me of the movie The Swan, really enjoyed Helen.
Thanks so much! 🙂