Should They Fall?

Should they rain?

Should they pour?

Should they fall from above?

The Angles

Who have been cast out like a dove

With wings out stretched to slow their decent

All the time wishing they were up there again

With their heads in the clouds

And their wings on their backs

Where they belong

There's no doubt in that

So should they rain?

Should they pour?

Should they fall from above?

When it's breaking their hearts one by one?

I wrote this about a month before the last episode of season eight and the poem was originally meant to be about Lucifer and the angels who fell with him, but after the episode came out I decided it suited the fall of the angels much better.