About

The flutter of wings, the feel of velvet on my face, the vision of feathers falling all around me. How frightening simple it all looks, an angel, snatched from the heavens, chained down into oppression, locked forever in solitude, or so the demon thinks.

Days pass, weeks fall away, years slide unnoticed by the angel. I growing old, and he staying pure and beautiful, resisting his imprisonment, me just accepting my own. His bright blue eyes have seen paradise and so they will again and he knows this, even in death he will return home, soar with his brothers, hunt the filth that has caused him so much pain. What of me...I close my eyes.

A noise...chains breaking...wings flapping...voices...Choirs that sing of hope, songs of freedom. Glory. I find it hard to open my eyes, the thick sand holding them down, I force them open anyhow. Beauty...the like of which I have never seen, proud beings...wings spread, flaming silver swords in hand, their freed brother in arm. I envy them.

I feel the wetness slide down my cheeks and know that I am crying. I feel overwhelming love enter my body and I dare not raise my old cloudy eyes. My bones curled and deformed, my clothes ragged and soiled, yet worse of all my soul broke and decayed. How could I dare look at this creature of...such profound godliness....but I feel a slender, warm hand wipe the tears from my eyes, lifting my face into his. I see the hope, the love, and the mercy in the angel's eyes and I weep openly. I sob, humiliate myself, and pray to the being....but to no avail.

I feel the sorrow the angel feels, the heat of his torment at not being able to help a soul less monster. Oh of course he does not see me as such...but that's what I am. The demon had broken me, I was weak, I gave in to save myself from pain! How could he...the most beautiful of creatures...how could he touch the filth that I! I tried to pull away, to get free from his hands, but I cannot he is everywhere...and I am not.

He turns to his brothers, they nod and he smiles. He breaks the chains that hold me in my bondage, he lifts me into his arms, like a babe. He washes the filth from my body, and his brothers come. The speak to me in a language long forgotten but I understand...and I pray...I do as they bid me, I accept their words and fill my old. blackened, broken heart with them, and I am made brand new. Now I am being carried....

I am lead into a place that no words could ever define. The songs like life. I am new. Not with my broken body, or my worn soul. I have been made whole. I now sit with the angels, converse, and feel no sorrow that my bondage both destroyed and gave me new life. I have no regrets...