Stepping Stone

An angel’s wings
grow prim and proper,
for all she knew,
noone could stop her,
through thick and thin she overcame,
for a future
that shan’t be the same.

she swore once more she could be strong,
the treks already this far along,
a glance ahead and one could see,
how long
and far
the road
would be.

An angel’s wings grow dim and grim,
How could hopelessness be let in?
uttered once more, with her amen,
avast all her lies,
she’d never begin.