The grey skies, oppressive as I walked amongst the stones.
Through the canvas of misery, through the lines of despair,
through stairs of deprivation and anguish and pain and desolation...
An angel came down.
Wings that flooded the skies in much darker hues.
A cold colour flooded my skin as I fought against the isolation.
His names inked across his beautiful face, the words that revealed his nature so renowned.
Barbed wires that swirled his head until with it he was crowned.
Cries and wails of those who saw his wings permeated through the air, screaming, thundering, deafening.
Though his true nature they did not yet know, and if they did then would it make any difference?
As his foot touched the ground and he towered well above me, so horrid I wept for my God.
He soon told me this was the end, and this was the beginning. A new beginning after embracing his eminence.
“I defy you, black crow,”  I scream as I picked up my spear.
“Now was not my time, begone,” I demanded in an authority that cloaked my fear.
Yet the crow did not relent, and his arms were yet to give in.
More I knew I had to fight the denouement of my sin.
He did not relent to my spear nor to my arrow, nor to my rocks and gun.
His was the reach that extended from the earth to the sun.
His was the reach everywhere that life may be.
To exert his dominance of sky, land and sea.
And so it was, I fought the fiend, to wage war on his essence through the fields of all his dominion.
On land, he commanded tanks of panthers made with the flesh of black obsidian.
On the sea, he had submarines of deathly sharks, who with each yawn display their teeth.
By air, he gave commandment to a squadron of vultures and crows that feasted on every cold flesh beneath.
Fire at those big cats! Spear those sharks! Take aim with one rock so that two foul birds will fall!
One after the other would fall, and one after the other gave way for their brothers and sisters with their dying call.

To fight was a hopeless act, for his army was made of a multitude.
Could I have retreated too far off distant land where his grip could not reach my altitude?
I ran through his desert of despair to seek refuge. In the distance before my eyes stood an oasis.
As my fingers ran through the cold waters, under the palm tree. There I saw his shadow, that stood above, and his smile so gracious.
“Don’t run now.” He said. Though My legs took me to the tops of the mountains of hope and what after lies.
A distant strip beyond the seas of tears and right before the country of happiness and paradise.
At there on the peak, he floats high above. With a presence that surrounded all I knew.

Into his arms, I folded and breathed in the foulest of air, the foulest of scent. With wings wrapped around me, I gave in. The smell of tears and sorrow was far worse.  Each whiff of the aroma gave their own story.
Nothing was there now, cold and blackness. A life once lived in pallets of vibrant colours and darker hues, of happiness and sorrow... all black now. Even the shortfalls and the warm moments of glory.
All black now.

“Shh, all is well now... justice is here... I am here...” He spoke with a voice so dear, so sweet. I wondered if it was the same voice as before? Maybe it was?
Though his feathers, now a curtain of white silk.
Though barbed wires now ropes of golds.
Now the smells of death and decay were taken over by the that of sweet honey and milk.
Though his grip now a soft embrace.
Through the whites and suns and radiance that loomed all around.
I knew I was in a better place.