Fallen Angel

The Warlock marked her soul.

Her wings ablaze; she descends,

Into the underworld’s infinite hole.

Her wings can still yield flight.

It’s a perilous ascent: a brute fact.

The deep abyss amplifies her plight

Can she escape hell after this attack?

Twice the effort yet half the gain,

She fears she’ll never see the king of kings.

Despair and exhaustion worsen her pain.

She loses hope, she accepts defeat. 

A minor note in the devil’s suite. 

The struggle is too great to not go insane,

Surrender is an endorsement of the warlock’s reign.

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