A Plea

The people around me are walking in slumber, possessed by the dead souls that reside within hell’s very own shiny gates. Taloned fingers made for murder grip their minds and draw blood at their temples. Even demons do not wish to bear the red mark alone. They seek out the malleable and offer them oblivion, morphing it into a painless and simple thing. Oh, the poor people fall into sleep so terribly quicky. I walked with them once, until an angel came and opened my eyes. I grew wings, then… wings that were capable of encompassing the world… but the angel whispered to me, “ Look about you first, and bring the light to those you love.”

I wonder, sometimes, if there are people who will never wake up… people who can’t be saved. There are chains across my back, and the demons ever rake their minds. In my dreams I am strong enough, but alas I cannot tear the beasts away. I cannot push the innocent from their bloody path. “The masses know the way,” they chant aloud, but they’re all walking in circles.

“Please will you try to see? Please, I beg you just try” I scream with all of my breath. They turn their blank faces to me as if I am some passionate fool and nothing more. Oh, angel, What is there for me to do? How can I change the world if I cannot save a single soul?