Angel Dust

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Who remembers that morning?

The world was in turmoil, the devil was in jubilance and every angel was whispering clauses of escape to a soul who had seeked out the inner truth and an onyx state of mind.

There i was in utter darkness until…

 

My oh my how one moment has changed it all.

Years of anti-depressants, broken images of broken mirrors and a defiant memory of ill-advised tears had boiled over to a promise of no end.

 

Who remembers that afternoon?

The world was in slow motion, the muddy mist was building and the ship of a deathly ill man rocked back and forth during a long seasonal storm until it finally set sail with only one on board.

There i was in utter darkness until…

 

My oh my how one moment has changed it all.

Piles of angel dust on one dead rose in the shape of a cross is now buried away into mother nature’s tomb to fight off her tears and spring in a new birth.

 

I remember her words of wisdom to me on both occasions,

“Beware of the angel dust that hides within the angel’s dust.”

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