The Angel of Death Brought Me Peace

Poetry by Rimsha Fuad
Photo by Marek Studzinski

I’m sorry my curiosity struck you
I'm sorry my eyes looked in no other way but your direction.
Like a magnet your presence was.

I’m sorry.

For being so drawn to your halo which morphed into the daunting devil’s horns
when looked at by another blind being,
for their corrupted courage and imitated sympathy meant nothing.

Sly, sinful souls.

Hating and unworldly.

Finding satisfaction in your tragedies.

Dancing and prancing around in circles and celebrating as your cries grow louder and unbearable.

The insufferable echoes of an aching angel, wailing, seeking salvation.

Oh how I tried to mend your blemished wings
and reconnect the dots to that alluring smile you masked so gracefully.

The sound of your rupturing heart caused the world a deafening quake
blaring breaks and cracks on every inch of this sorrow filled sphere we dwell on.

Even the clouds above distorted into a glaring thunderbolt.

The joyous remained bitter, continuously dancing on toes to heels in repetitive spirals
as I watched tears plummet down your hollow blush cheeks.

Complete catastrophe
and in the midst of this agony,
the people gathered to applaud your misery.

Enliven evil
for they hadn’t explored your wonderous mind like I have
they hadn’t witnessed the purity flaring from the very frail figure you endured.

You were heaven sent
and I have come to return you
I promise you peace
your mind will reach the end of its tribulation
it will rest in a bed of ravishing roses and lavenders
the smell will soothe your delicate soul
and warm your fragile heart
as it pumps blood around the gardens of butterflies blooming from your chest
it will be quiet until you hear your angelic voice hum on and on

the melodies

of a song about the girl who outlived melancholy

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