Loneliness

I am breathing a smell of heavenly flowers.
The blooms of white trees
are falling in the fogy space
on the sound of the Orpheus’ lyre.
The fresh morning divines
one more journey.
Different from life,
here justice is inevitable.
My white wings will open wide
and the clouds will show a path
when from this white perfection
I go to save a soul.
Do not fear the black dress
that I am punished to wear
because when I fly
the song of the bell cries.

Fallen angel