I believe that each day is a blessing, every story is amazing and all poems should rhyme!
To all The Ones
To all the ones who weren’t the ones – let’s drink while holstering the guns. It wasn’t any fault of yours, so let’s just blame the Universe, that cold and infinite expanse with its forever neutral stance and bales of void between the stars. The wounds will heal – sometimes to scars, sometimes without a trace at all - that healing is itself a goal. I say let’s dance as dance we must as eons grind themselves to dust.
To All The Ones
To all the ones who were The Ones – thanks for the chance, the moons, the suns, the falling stars, the chirping birds, caresses, kisses, wars and words and mornings after nights before and tears and laughter by the door and days together and apart and stupid things we thought were smart and sweet and charming childish dreams and worlds collapsing into screams and screams becoming sighs of joy. Now every Helen got her Troy and every Clarence got his wings – let’s wait for what the future brings.
Every fallen angel needs a guardian human, and Calamel was very fond of his. The human brought dirty, cold and desperate Calamel home, took care of him as the angel got used to his new body and learned to walk again – balance was horribly off without the wings, and listened to Calamel’s stories. Of course, the human did not understand a word of what the angel was saying, but he listened patiently and made comforting noises in all the right places.