The Only Mistake.

With humble steps she walks closer to the chair facing away from her,
a ghostly figure. This one was sitting in the dark, she cringes her eyes only to trace a figure.
With wings folded across his face, twining his bright wings out with tears pickering down his cheeks.
She opens her mouth only to find confusion; my lovely angel, why are you weaping on such beautiful wings?
He only fathoms her ignorance and lets out a silent retort. Well maybe I am not an angel my humble guest.
Her nose flickers as the log in the fire snaps in two. Of all angels, you are the most misunderstood.
A pause sounds the room of a dim sort of light. If I am an angel, then why do I weap in the mist of a more fragile being?
God's angels aren't meant to be insensitive, in fact the most sensitive angel is you, if people are are allowed to cry then I see no problem with you crying my angel.
His hands grope the arm chair and clutches it with remorse, only letting out a small whimper, not quite a groan.
Of all the people; you frequently state I am the most, but what of the least am I?
Her retort set into a flawless position she leans down next to his ears and pondering if he'll really listen.
You are the least of angels with an unique personality, if not the only one to have his name forgotten.
He chortles softly and looks into her eyes. Your argument is superfluous, something I can't exceed, but as long as I'm useless what is there to believe?
My baby angel, as cruel as the water of sin has weighed you down, and your beauty shunted by other eyes. I believe you are the fallen angel given to me.
You may be honest when you say I've fallen, but what use are my wings if I am destined to hit rock bottom?
She looks into his eyes, follows the maze in the deepest green of his retina. Maybe God has chosen for me to meet you at the dead bottom, only to rescue yourself and I from those monotonous lies.
His skin trembles as she comes closer his minds quivering like the strings of a guitar.
Of all people that have seen the bottom, I might have not been ever able to find you, I say God made one mistake and only one.
Her eyes stop flowing the deep trails of his eyes and erks her head into a 45 degree turn and asks, why what may that be my beautiful angel that sings?
Of all people He should of given you these, the weight on my back, these beautiful wings