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Once upon a time
there was a heaven, and a hell
and in between, was the mortal world
of humans mundane
and though they knew it not
Angels walked amongst them
like plain people in clothes
sometimes they would be the farmer who gave you food
or the soldier who watched over your homes
or they be the cat who stared at you long
or the mad dog who chased you down the street
and sometimes
they’d be the homeless man,
cold, hungry and old
or the baby crying in a mothers arm.
Once upon a time
they roamed this Earth
toiling it with bare hands with their kin in men
till the day they sprouted wings
and rose above
high above
and watched
longing for the life of mere Men
who could rest upon a bed at night
and dream of wings and flight
never knowing the ancient tribes of Angels
once men, free to dream of skies
crying tears of rain.
Angels of wings wishing to be men again.