Why Angels Fall

{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 



      

  

e}