So I decided to actually look up a Villanelle - a beautiful poem format, in my opinion - and I wrote one. It took a few minutes, I'll grant you that. I think it's about WWII, or at least, civilian bombings. Have that in your head as you read this. I probably should've posted this on the Workstation, it needs some help, but what the hey.
Falling, they speak to me
Black snowflakes flood in white
That flash, too bright to see
The only way they could be free
The only goal near in sight
Falling, they speak to me
A shriek, a metallic plea
Raiding towns in dead of night
That flash, too bright to see
Crouching on a single knee
They're worried about who is right
Falling, they speak to me
The Pilots missed a single tree
Until at last, another light-
That flash, too bright to see
It fell, to no longer be
A belief that once was trite
Falling, they speak to me
That flash, too bright to see.
