Nomad Song by The Stolen Cat

in three parts:

1.
You called her fallen,
with your swollen eyes,
... her stolen gaze
defied your lies.

the angel who fell
left a trail for you,
the angel who fell
left a song:

2.
But we were trapped in the lines,
in the numbers and words,
in your cardboard boxes,
that said "fragile",
we were shifting
sands from home to homes
to the domes of martyrs
to the shanty tombs
for a candlelight dinner
on a tabletop mountain,
but leaving the undistributed middle,
untouched and unpacked.
the joy of giving
wasn't the politics of trade,
but wait, we just traded your soul
for a domes and chime,
and the temple next door.

3.
Back to where it all began on the tabletop mountain:

"where's the mirth?" said the candle to fly
and the fly burnt with joy, and left
a trail of soot on the table for two.