Fallen Angel (Outro)

I write this poetry to ease my pain... This feeling that grows and strains That these women I yearn for That I care for Are all the same Different names no doubt With different tales I shall hold out But at the very center of their beings They might as well be siblings Pretty they are, french lips, exotic eyes Exotic smiles! Fallen Angels from the skies In disguise, so still 'fallen', otherwise My poem would not be so named Nor my pain so woefully gained Nor my mind so drenched in taint Of the darkest hues, of the blackest paint Guard your hearts closely, my brothers Close but prithee not too close For there are women who will care for the stain in your clothes Women who yearn to be the star of your prose These are what to look for But I continuously shirk that quest In pursuit of what I look for Retaking life's test