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Of Angels and Demons
Angels and the grim reaper
Talk about acts of futility, and unrequited love comes to mind not as an afterthought but as a head-on concussive force. Afterthoughts are never made from the front seat of a rapidly careening Jaguar that is headed straight towards an oak tree. Prayer on the other hand could be made on the fly when one is faced with an eventuality as conclusively concussive as flying into the cold embrace of the grim reaper.
That angels are our guiding light is a notion that has to me become less tenuous. Being creatures of the ether, angels could be perceived to affect our lives only in so far as they make themselves manifest in some form or the other that neither surprises not perplexes. The laws of physics notwithstanding, these heavenly sentries do not seem to mind being pulled this way or that way, in ways less forceful than the slightest tug to their pure-white sleeves. However we might wish that these "light of our lives" never return to their celestial moorings, they could not possibly illuminate all the nooks and crannies of our everyday existence and bend to our most thoughtful prayers except on the occasion when one really does not wish to fly into the cold embrace of the grim reaper.