words by dominic riccitello

although bruised, his wings fluttered
coarse skin to his knees
sang of love and forever
but dabbled in things that drew to a near

his edges were jagged
the pills he took ravaged
his soul seemed clean of innocence and purity
his sultry sung with the birds and chirped with the wind

his legs could bend and flip
life never seemed to kiss
he lived of death and hell
the karma he knew is what satan sold

a headstone of all things said
deathbed carved to him
they say he reaps from the grave
cuts your limbs as you speak his name

once a wholesome boy
but now a man you never knew
the one who fell from the blue
and drifted right on through