The Tears of Angels
In the dark hours the tears of angels cleanse this land of poison and dirt. And at the break of dawn we arise and gaze upon the heavens shining bright and blue as white clouds roll in over the snow-capped peaks of the north. Rays of sunlight surge across the terrain bursting into homes and businesses alike as the chariot of fire creeps across the new sky. Roused by the new day, the masses prepare for their diurnal trek west into chaos only to return at dusk to wearied slumber; spent of all energy of new day. In the darkness of night The Angels awaken to weep once more for a new day.
For the seven nights since Ellen left The Angels have wept bringing me seven beautiful days; a reminder that mornings can be beautiful even though Ellen’s not here with me anymore.
