By Sreejita Mitra
Aren’t we all fallen angels?
Banished from the Elysian Fields,
For better or for worse,
To steer the infinite abyss.
Hurtling and plummeting,
Through a blinding light,
Leaving the sphere agape,
To grapple with countless murky nights.
And here we don the coveted cloaks,
Of humanity, humility and altruism,
While our conscience still stirs us,
And bewares us of the worldly chasm.
But we draw snow angels,
And hang fairy lights,
Sprinkling magic dust along the way,
To redeem a condemned life!