Angels

It's funny, how the night feels sometimes. The cold and Fear fills the air. A sense of lonliness and impending doom, nay, ever-present doom surrounds me and embraces me till I give in. Till I fall hopelessly through the night to the darkest depths of my being. No reason appeals to me. The only emotions present in me are fear and sadness. A sense of anger screams in and I begin shooting blindly at anything that moves.
Even if it is something I hold most dear to me. All hope is lost. Everything is futile. I have lost. Both everything I am and everything I had. It is the end.
But then a voice calls out. One that has been around forever. And it calms me.down. Reminds me that Im still right here. In my bed. At home and in touch with someone I truly love. Someone that truly loves me back. Slowly but surely, the voice listens to me as I shoot ever so foolishly even at it. Even I it struggles to set me free, aiding me to fight the great foe I can ever fight. Myself. The darkness begins to recede. A stream of light comes into view.
And before I know it, it expands to encompass all that was, is, and will be. I can fly again. And I shoot up. Out of the cold dark night. On to solid ground again. I still walk on the edge. But just knowing that that one voice will be there for me is enough. Enough hope to keep marching on. To keep fighting. To keep dreaming. To have hope. The wind blows at me. A gentle breeze to cool my mind. The night smells different. The city turns warm again.
There is love in the air. And I am bathed in it. In her love and in her glow. She asks me not to put her on a pedestal. But it's funny why she'd think that I was doing such a thing. Last time I saw her, last time I checked, Angels float above the ground.

A. Mehta