Angels & Demons

Of all who mourn'd

He made their weeping song seem more predictable stale rituals and customs,

A long line with wry complaisance in every face with equanimity as a meager dissimulation of imperiousness,

It seemed not she deserve a veritable wistful honor?

Tears once again bled like wounds from him at what he could only perceive as pure transgressions of an absolute tragedy.

Beauty, gracility of her very soul, an unspeakable vibrancy that resonate with him to his core were the glories that were to be her rememberings and anything but would be infamy, a disgrace.

An indignant furious tempest arose from his heart while beholding their covert insouciance,

Indulgence, vice, depravity was the dealer of her death through the eyes of the impudent, a poison to fulfill base desire,

But he could see in her no fault, no sin in longing for sweet euphoria, a heart that felt so strongly it hurt, an old soul trapped in a young girl yearning, hoping and questioning why, confused and frustrated at the inability of others to distinguish the contrast she so easily discern, to observe the beauty in all that she so effortlessly recognize, to grasp the meaning and value she was to comprehend so naturally... why does an existence that is at the tips of our fingers seem so impossible to attain to most when the ease of the achievement is seemingly born in others?

Most importantly, why does the blindness of the masses to see life shining as brightly as she take its toll so heavily on the souls that believe it's possibility is all but just dawning on the horizon?

And by what superiority did they belong as to pass down their verdict without knowing?

He would be no better to condemn for he suffered the same disease, demons that haunt him without end in sight.

No, they would never understand,

They possess not the hand she tried to touch the world with, not the highest hopes for all things that were and what could be,

She would, in the unknowing eyes, always be a pity, a waste, an addict,

To him she was a poet, an angel,

a heroin.

For Katie, rest now,

I promise I'll find you,

Shine On baby girl,

He Writes Love,

-Xtian