ANGELS

Angels’ angles of descent,
Being the embodiment of virtue doesn’t pay the rent,
Smell divine—heaven scent,
Above reproach, above the earth,
Not truly valued but beyond all worth,
Something pure like innocent allure, like light,
A form of power, a powerful form,
Like the tallest tower that’s out of the norm.

Apparently, apparitions follow some traditions,
There are certain conditions,
Terms and conditions apply,
Reads the small print millimetres high,
Conditions citizens are conditioned to expect,
Or to ignore along with their hidden catches,
So they overlook them like their recently discovered bald patches.

Abject and appalling conditions,
Unreasonable and unbearable conditions,
Conditions apply until you die,
Unacceptable conditions, inescapable,
No matter how you try,
So you do accept them but wonder why?