Bukoslav

We came with ashes on our hands, With shattered pieces of our plans, We wore our failures like a crown, Afraid that Heaven would turn us down. Some of us ran, some stayed behind, Some lost the war inside our minds, But through the silence, through the pain, We heard a voice calling our names. We are all the tainted angels, Falling underneath the weight, With our broken wings and halos, And the sins we can't erase. But the blood that flowed from Calvary, Still washes every stain, Heaven doesn't fear the broken— Jesus calls us home again. There is grace for every failure, There is light beyond the night, There is mercy at the altar, T here is freedom in His eyes. All the tainted angels... Still beloved by the King. With our broken wings... He teaches us to sing. All the tainted angels... Come home. [DEVIATION] The poem and the accompanying image are protected by the copyright of the author Bukoslav (2026). Please, respect it. Enjoy it.Thanks 🙏