Treasure Island

Anna Ong

(31 July 1980 / Singapore)

My Guardian Angel


Bloodshot eyes frantically scans the devastated land
Tears flow freely, bidden by the fumes that stung
My shallow breaths catches in my parched throat
As I breathe in the sulfurous air that burns my lungs

Searching, seeking for that which was lost
I bore the pain, the burden of it all
For a chance, a boon to right the wrong
That was of me, its treacherous seed born

And as I trudge through the God-forsaken paths
Like an apparition an object of beauty fades into view
Rising before me, completely enfolded in dazzlingly lit shafts
A form so vividly beautiful, all my fears it instantly subdues

An enchanting figure, lithe in its mystical grace
Yet promising untold strength in its muscular sinews
It dons a mask perchance to conceal its angelic face
Its torso robed in the softest silk of a shimmery blue

And behold extending from its creamy shoulder blades
Two wondrous feathery wings, unruffled in its serenity
Wrapping around the lithely ethereal bodice
Yet sweeping up majestically with an air of royalty

And as I stood rooted to the cold, unforgiving soil
My eyes are transfixed upon this alluring belle
My insignificance magnifies in the presence of such purity
Yet magically, a seed of hope births forth within me

With a single cry of compassion, my angel glides to me
With a swiftness and dexterity impossible to conjure,
The enigmatic celestial being instantly enfolds me in its wings
Infusing me with its power, its unconditional love

Silently I sobb as I clung to my sole giver of hope
Allowing the waves of adoration and comfort to sweep over me
And at last, I knew I have found my sanctuary
Right here in the circle of my guardian's wings.

Submitted: Monday, July 08, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 08, 2013

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