Angelic Lament

At night, sometimes, I feel the missing wings from my back 

and pray to god as, disappointed, he answers at last

"you hated my creation and I see no fitter recourse 

than to make you live as one and feel their pains and their sores."

but despite their human woes, the pain I feel is mine 

for I feel the pain and sin of gracelessness, genuine. 

the abandon and the hurt of having nothing good enough 

stems from knowing, personally, his infinite love.

as mortal all I think of is my death
every day
because life falls short of heaven life displayed.

I've spent an hour in heaven
to live a hundred years on earth, 

what's the secret joy of being human?
for unto me it's more a curse...