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My Angel
Posted by Hannah, Feb 24, 2009. 547 views. ID = 2386
This post was written in 26 minutes.
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 | This didn't take as long as it says. I got totally distracted. :P |  | This post has been awarded 10 stars by 2 readers. |
A shift of the wind
brings new scents and sounds
to this world that we know.
His whispers send shivers through me,
awakening me as nothing else.
These angels that walk the land
don't ask for more than your happiness.
They stand in the rain,
their own misery forgotten,
their selfless hearts not belonging
in such a bleak and cruel world.
Most only last a while,
a portion of how long they should.
They follow closely the path
that a Man set for humanity years ago.
They cry for the evil.
They pity the men
with black hearts and stained hands.
Men of great stature
who have the furthest to fall,
before they come crashing down into muddy waters.
A life ends with the whispered words
of one of these men.
He needs the life squashed,
and so it is,
as he sits back, smiling in his leather chair,
his white gloved hands stained in red.
He was called of God
but his power was corrupted by those who could turn
even the most compassionate heart to stone.
These angels roam in the bright daylight,
never needing to hide their faces.
They live among us,
helping and saving us,
as we try to journey home.
He is my angel,
the one man who can see past everything
to just me.
He sees me as I am,
not a saint, not a sinner,
just me.
His hands on mine feel like fire,
crackling, heating up my entire body.
I see the truth through his eyes.
The truth about me,
about him.
He is one of them,
the angels that soar above all others,
while I wait on land,
happy to stand in his shadow
and watch as he shines.
Copyright 2009 Hannah. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
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