Glass falls from the building window like rain,
The shards fall upon the sidewalk and shatter,
The angel falls out of the window with glass in his back though he fells no pain,
Maybe someone will notice all the broken glass and destruction later.

The wind blows the sweet smell of cut clover,
A demon follows the angel out of the window,
Who ever really decides when it is all over,
With inhuman speed the demon goes to hide in shadow.

Still the angel falls to the ground.


Do you think I should add more lines to this poem?