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Rated: E · Poetry · Inspirational · #2128595
Dedicated to the little girl wailing in my stomach
{c:grap
Awakened by an eerie dream
Of weary angels with tattered wings
Their song was woeful and it broke my heart

I asked them if they knew the part
where alone I lived through hell?
The angel closest to me sighed,
and then began to yell...

“Dear child don’t be selfish! life’s not always about you.”

“You think we left you all alone; yet this simply is not true.”

Another spoke much quieter, 
she said,

“I beg your pardon,”

“You’ve had the best protecting you,
Hand plucked, from heavens garden.”

My response was, 

"if that is true then please explain,
how each of them were able"

The youngest one emerged just then
from underneath my table,
He was a child of maybe ten
I wondered how he died,
With tears falling from his eyes he whispered

“we have tried,”

Timidly he approached me,
a tarnished halo on his head
Then nearly imperceptibly, 
the youngest angel said,

“We were beaten quite extensively,
and for a long, long time”

“Our wings you see are tattered now; 
and we need our wings to fly,

It’s hard to sit and listen to all that they’d endured
I realized right then how badly my vision was obscured.

An older angel shuffled towards me,
with no wings at all
I can’t express how bad it feels
to have made these angels fall.

while looking deep into my soul, 
he struggled to convey

“The demons were a burden, sure
though they’re all gone today.”

“ Sadly, the only one unconquered,
your worst nemesis, is you,”

We’ve come bearing hope,
perhaps that you‘d know what to do
To slay the beast you’re on your own;
I heard them loud and clear

“I’m sorry,”

I said loudly, to be sure they each could hear
The beast in there’s enormous
and nastier than me
I promised them I’d do my best,
though surely they could see

That I was no contender;
 I feared letting them down
Then gracefully a girl approached me
wearing a flowing gown

Into my ear she whispered,
a message that was sent from above

“All you need is in your heart
the most powerful weapons love.”

Heidi Shavill 2013
to the wailing girl that lives in my stomach 
 
Written by
Heidi Shavill  Denver Colorado 

      
  
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© Copyright 2017 HeidiShavill (soldiersoul at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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