Margo, Riddle, and Thorn

from Fable of the Fallen Angels by Sunday

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lyrics

My twin and I woke up early one morning, with no alarm clock warning.
In separate rooms and separate beds, in synch we raised our tired heads.
We blissfully followed, like birds in migration, an inner instinct to begin our vacation.
In the lazy beams of light we would push, through branches and thorns of an angry bush.
So bleeding freely, painlessly red, we pushed on blindly through the bush like I said.
Then the mystery broke, when the branches did too, and my sister and I finally broke through.
How Pretty and Strange
The landscape had gotten 
This was our home we had sadly forgotten 
The Angels we knew, Margot, Riddle and Thorn
Said all together, “We missed you! What's it like to be born?”
That was the end of our lives as the fallen, when we came to heaven as bees finding pollen.
Margot, Riddle and Thorn play games with their powers,
like turning their fingers and their toes into flowers.
But my twin and I have developed a boredom with the predictable perfection so we cut off our wings.
We happily and painfully bleed, the more beautiful image than the previous things.

credits

from Fable of the Fallen Angels, released January 22, 2016

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Sunday Tallahassee, Florida

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