Fallen Angel (Poem)

The crowd sitting
awaits the arrival
Of an angel
who appears from the sky
No one knows how
and no one asks why
But they all want to see this angel fly

Sleight of hand and magic
Their presence is astounding
The naked eye is mesmerized
As the show moves along
The crowd sits
Captivated
They really can’t explain why
Or how
Is it possible
To turn water into wine
To disappear in a moment
Then return back from time

Angel
The master manipulator
Plays with the audience
Their wide-eyed perceptions
Making them believe in some visual conceptions
Images of glory, pain, and honour
The crowd applauds
Proclaiming it a miracle
But yet
This angel
Is no more than an illusion
Just another distraction
Among the mass global confusion

If only they knew
What exactly it was
Man
Witch
Prophet
Angel
A lost soul without a spirit
An unsolved mystery
Instead they choose
To adore that history