Ephemeral Angel Of Flesh Poem by John Paul Butler

Born to this world
In order to die
Sentenced to breath
With no reason why
She's all caught up
In a mortal mesh
An ephemeral angel
Made only from flesh

With gossamer skin
So smooth and pale
Ethereal yet material
Eventually to fail
She's all twisted up
Crammed into a coil
Trapped in this form
Embodied with toil

So born of this earth
And discovering hell
Is a place inside
The physical shell
She's all caught up
In a mortal mesh
An ephemeral angel
Made only from flesh

Cursed with beauty
An incarnate dream
Or nightmare shroud
In perpetual stream
Being witness to
Her own slow decline
She'll live in a mirror
Till the end of her time

Born to this world
In order to die
Sentenced to breath
With no reason why
She's all caught up
In a mortal mesh
An ephemeral angel
Made only from flesh