The Wickedness of the Human Race
The cries were blown to him by the wind. Loud and disturbing. He stopped and expressed interest in the Catholic cemetery. He noticed some of the newer graves were decorated with flowers while the others were long forgotten. He trembled with agitation, his thoughts went into a frenzy when he read some of the head stones.
“Forever in our hearts.” Impossible!
“Lay me down in green pastures.” Where?
“Sitting by God's side.” Not even a king!
He broke from the cemetery angry and disturbed. Humanity troubled him. He never expected the earth to be full of danger and terror. He over heard other angels talking about the earth in the positives. They talked about how their visit to earth was a glorious expedition. They talked about how it remained smooth and placid as the southern sea.
He was tormented by the cries that filled the air, and he roamed the streets disconsolately, trying to memorize the bends in the road. He stopped and looked at the bright moon. He noticed the clean, frigid smell in the air.
A flash of light took over the darkness. Explosions drowned out the cries. Civilization was dismantled by what mortals called Nuclear Weapons. His job was simply to collect souls during war, but after the explosions ripped through the air, there were no souls left intact.
The wind, which had been frozen for a few moments during the impact, now rose with great violence. The moon had reached the heavens to transport souls, but arrived as an empty vessel. Then it was beginning to descend. The clouds swept across the sky like a jet carrying radiation, and shredded trapped souls.
The angel fell to his knees and he couldn't guess how many days had past since the explosions, and he couldn't endure the misery that stained his heart. Broken souls that floated by uttered sounds that he could not comprehend. Even if he could save the souls, he couldn't take them to heaven because he was stranded. He was cold, and his voice seemed suffocated. His wings burnt to ashes and fell off his body like dust.
When God chose him for the assignment he was looking forward to collecting souls for the gardens in heaven, and his arrival on earth was met with a mixture of curiosity and compassion. He was elevated by the enchanting appearance of nature, but then reality stabbed him in the heart. War was around him and he witnessed the fallen soldiers on both sides.
The angel cried continuously because he couldn't understand the wickedness of the human race.
© 2015 Frank Atanacio