Angel
They say that angels watch us from the skies above.
That even if we cannot hear them, their voices are just beyond our reality.
Can they see him now, watching the city wave beneath a heart it cannot move?
He turns to the sky, allow himself this last mercy
Of watching the blue expanse slip through shaking hands.
He lays down into an empty expanse of thin air like a bed.
He does not close his eyes. Not once does he avoid looking to the heavens as he waits to land.
His mouth stretches into a soundless scream—forget the pleas of that which wishes to be dead.
Survival, like a knife, slices through the once obstinate wish
his still-beating heart reaches out, against his will clinging to a life no longer his own
and from that unspoken plea, at the speed of light, there came a swish!
That stopped his fall, in arms he lay instead of in broken bones.
Feathers fall freely from above, an ephemeral man glared down at him.
An unbroken, shattered body clasped tightly in the light of a seraphim.
APOCALYPSE
Demons creep, they seep beyond the world of sleep.
A world which has already met its demise keeping
one soul alive like a prize to keep.
A world which has already met its end, the cause for leaping.
Man became beast, indistinguishable from friend or foe.
Inky black globs of what used to be mankind, twisted spines
and spindled claws, dripping jaws, like fathomless, insatiable holes.
Always offering to consume but never granting relief so saccharine.
“The world has already met its end,” the man cried.
“Why save me? Why save a soul in a world god’s kingdom watched but would never come?”
The angel smiled—a sight once told to be beauty now revealed to be filled with toxic pride.
“The world may have ended, that much is true. To that darkness you are welcome to succumb.
But should you choose that path, you must keep in mind,
As creator of this world, you are required to do so correctly in kind.”
GUARDIAN
When speaking of Angels and the kingdom of God,
humanity speaks only of winged creatures, benevolent and considerate.
They do not tell tale of the Angel who is flawed,
who floats like an insult, glowing in a world so desolate.
The Angel speaks in riddles, crude and smug.
He tells the man the world is his to save.
When the road grows rough, he’s there to tug
the unwilling God towards the planet-grave.
Raven hair, ashen skin, and golden eyes,
with winter white wings that bring beasts to their knees.
These hallmarks are the signs that the Angel is made not of lies.
when he arrogantly pulls the man towards his catastrophe.
“I, too, am a power you own, a world you made, a strength not understood.
I will guide your path in light and bring you to your proper godhood.”
COMMANDMENT
Deep within the planet’s heart,
There lies a core, the origin of the earth and the man alike.
A mutual speck of life, where this world would start.
The shared resting place from which death and life will spike
and craft the bounds for replacement reality.
Amidst a field with baby bluebells and periwinkle flowers
kissed along a spread of fresh green grass, a forgotten piece of prosperity,
erected a monument of marble marvel powers.
Into a stairwell where eternity promises to be the man’s resting place at last.
The archway spread into a fathomlessly dark expanse,
A stairway that never once seemed to end, demons spread far and vast.
“I will guide you, now walk forward, spare not a glance
to the world, abandoned, which you have grown to depend.
Follow the Knight into the day’s final end.”
PROMISE
Never was there a journey so long, nor so cruel, nor so hard
as the man wandered corrupted paths with darkness that crawled up his skin and made it cold.
Many times, he wished he had not been left unmarred or had not merely been scarred--
that the angelic sword would cease, and his story would never be told.
Neither man nor shadow, he pressed on, determined for his duty to fulfill.
Lost within the melancholic depths of a hell which he’d subconsciously designed.
The angel always remained a pace ahead, tireless, loyal to the man and still
Refusing to let up even when the worst of demons crawled up and requested their resign.
His sword slashed, one-two-one-two,
But even with the Angel’s untouchable light, the shadows captured the man by surprise.
“I’m sorry,” The Angel held the man, his guilt palpable, his sorrow true.
“I promised to protect you, but this darkness seems to never compromise.”
The Angel wept as though the tears were his own,
A promise made: their fate foreshown.
ASCENDENCE
A crystalline orb of light shimmered within the center
of a world that was more dead than alive.
Infectious tendrils wrapped around the core, threatening to tear asunder
the cracking remains—a soul unloved, a heart deprived.
The Angel gestured for the man to approach, never leaving from his side,
“Destroy this broken world. It's what you asked.
Destroy the light and let your fate be satisfied.”
Within his palm, the small orb pulsated. This, his fate, his one final task.
Wind whipped his skin, he crashed to the ground, at last the collapse
That he’d foretold upon that roof all those moons ago.
Yet, once again, when his eyes opened, aghast
The Angel took the fall, again his arms and wings around the man fold.
“I realize now why you created me,
It was to send you to the New World—for me to set you free.”
THE NEW WORLD
A sacrifice made for a cry never once released,
The Angel fell for the man.
Again, again the world around them shattered piece by broken piece
and crueler words from God’s servant never could be spoke again;
“Live, find peace, let me take this world for you.
The part of you that cannot leave this dystopia,
Let me free you from this pain. Please take the love that I have through
to the new reality. Your new utopia.”
Words etched on a heart that could not recall
The marks left by a world that taught him everything and nothing.
Again, on the roof, but not to take a fall
The man, half angel, with heart tied tight with feathered wings.
The world, anew, no longer plagued by monsters nor beasts
Where Angel and Man destroyed despair and hopelessness with one shared peace.