The World

The world has beaten her down,
Cut her wings off clean.
She clings to bloodied feathers,
And shards of broken dreams.

He never was an angel,
But was beat down just the same.
This demon boy cried poetry,
And slowly forgot the pain.

It matters not what you are,
This world isn't for the weak.
The true survivors,
Have learned to guard their hearts.

Her shaking hands clung to nothing,
Her life was bleeding away.
But she found a demon boy,
Who'd love her anyway.

He'd given his life to words,
Let the world have it's way,
But the little fallen angel,
Was quick to lead him astray.

This world breaks what doesn't bend,
And bends again what won't break.
And the only way to survive,
Is to find another soul to live for.

And slowly he wrote all of her pains in free verse.