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doused in oil, tried by fire

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The angel sat waiting for his judgement.

His eyes filled with smoky tears, his darkened wings trembling, he sat in silence, waiting for them to decide his fate.

He didn’t mean to do it.
He didn’t mean it.

He couldn’t hide it. His wings, once shining white and gold, have been stained gray by his sins.

He closed his eyes. They hurt.

He heard them speak.

“Cast him out.”

He tried to scream. He was forced into silence. Hands grabbed his arms, his wings, and pulled.

His feathers burned black, spreading like an oil spill.

It hurts, he tried to scream, it hurts, please stop.

His mouth refused to open.

It hurts.
It hurts.

He felt pain.

It hurts.

He felt pain, and then he fell.