On Blood stained Wings

Waking up from a frenzy,
from a time where I dreamt, peaceful,
gentleness
and flew on wings, so white like pearls,
possessed in the purpose of your existence,
when you passed by,
i would bask in the radiance,
of an existence, a source of imagination,
when you would inspire,
a mind that has flown through storms,
of pain and has bled profuse,
from miseries of misunderstanding,
just to smile, knowing your existence,
solving my purpose,
of poetry, like an artist’s scenery,
untouched and undisturbed by him,
but you raged, barged, broke the heart 
which time mended, gave wings to breathe again,
and shattered it, stabbed it with thoughts,
some which I never could never dare to conjure,
and ended me in flames of shame,
and now I am flying, injured, hurt, in pain,
smiling, trying to ignore,
I take my flight now, holding on to whatever is left,
of inspiration, of the spell you cast and you mutilated,
spraying my own blood, all over,
I’m flying,
with a set of tearful eyes,
and blood stained wings……..