Oh Angel! 

I saw him in the graveyard, 

Black feathers torn apart and lying on the ground like soft pebbles of sorrowland, 

Blood over his scrawny, bony back,

Hot tears pouring down his sky blue eyes, beautiful and calm as the ocean at a moonlit night, 

And yet so full of sadness. 
“Oh Angel!” I said, 

“What brought you so much misery? 

You, who is the symbol of love and purity! 

What tortured your innocent white soul? 

Why are you here, away from your heaven, in a world of manipulation and a planet of heinous humans with tainted souls?” 
He looked up to me with his bright, shiny face, 

Like an invisible halo over his blonde crown, 

And said in his sweet, melodious voice, 

“Oh human! 

I came here as her guardian”, 

Pointing towards the grave of my friend Maisee, 

“That girl who was killed yesterday by her self loathing and pity. 

I had to save her from the demons on this Earth, 

But I didn’t know I had to actually protect her from her own live demons. 

They consumed her from within, 

Planting hatred in her heart and anger in her every thought,

Feasting on her very flesh, 

She was vengeful and arrogant, 

No longer the cheerful baby girl, that she was once. 

She hated her God given appearance, 

Jealous of everyone around her, 

Envy, the sin of Lucifer himself. 

But Satan didn’t kill her, 

She killed herself using that knife when a boy left her, 

Was that her self worth? 

Was she really defined by what people thought of her? 

I failed her human, 

Hence I fell from the heaven as a punishment.”
My heart growing heavy with every passing second as I wrapped my hands around his malnourished form, 

“Come home Angel, 

Don’t feel guilty over what she did, 

It was the almighty Lucifer’s work, after all.”

The little girl on the train. 

As I sat on my designated seat in the 6:30 local train this morning, I noticed unusual. A little girl was sitting across from me, staring outside the window at something she was fascinated by, while I stared at my object of fascination, her. 

So what was so unusual about her? It certainly wasn’t the fact that she was alone in the first class compartment, which mind you, isn’t cheap or easily affordable by lost looking girls. Or that she held this utterly peaceful expression and yet, had determination painted all over her strong features. There was something uniquely beautiful about them. They weren’t soft and elegant like our usual beauty standards. They were pronounced and well defined along the ridges. Soon it felt like I was describing a portrait rather than an actual human being. Yet, there she sat, looking at the passing trees and buildings, not once distracting, thinking about who knows what. Alas, she got up when her destination arrived. Rubbing her sweaty palms, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears and muttering ‘excuse me’ everytime she bumped into someone. I kept looking at her until the train started and her fragile figure disappeared at a distance.