A girl kneels by the bedside of her dying lover. Her tattered wings spread out behind her, the feathers unkempt and dirty. She is crying pitifully. The only one who can save her lover, and therefore herself, stands behind her, scowling at her weakness. He is the reason her lover is dying. She would be lost without the one she loves. The voice of Justice echos like thunder throughout the room.

I've watched your helpless fall from grace

And the agony in your face

If every cut were one less pain you had to bear;

I'd cut myself a thousand times to save you

And as I watch you slip away

And this is justice done?

But I was young!

The loss of innocence that you hate was caused by you in a time of rage

Those that died were no longer pure

Because you stole their purity

Look at her; she is the last, crying for the one you would not save

If every cut were one less pain you had to bear;

I'd cut myself a thousand times to save you

Will you not help her? Will you turn away and let her die by the suffering you caused to save her kind?

I am the cause of all I hate

a thousand times

Tell me now! Is it not too late to save her?

It is never too late

Copyright 2006 KMcJ