Angel.

Angel.

Lonely was he, so cold. Wallowing in an eternal misery filled abyss.

No one around to help put him back together from being repeatedly let down .

He wrestled with putting down the knife that he so desperately wanted to end his life.

Lonely was he, so deep in a melancholic state it never felt as though he was ever awake. For goodness sake, when was God coming for him.

He thought it was the end unbeknownst to him that his life was yet to truly begin.

He was ushered into a room which shone brighter than the sun and the aura was overwhelming. A women sat poised gracefully in a chair and for a moment oh was he scared. 

Something about her stood out, she was unknowingly refreshing. She soothed his fears and silenced his loquacious thoughts. He finally felt that he mattered and his voice was heard. 

She was slow to speak as to not attack and with that he felt that he could confide and let her know where his thoughts reside. Pent up so deep inside.

She was the driving factor that made him want to stay alive. 

She believed in him far more than he ever believed in himself. Her calm nature pursued the duress and calmly soothed the pains in his chest. 

She was an angel in disguise and there is no question that from heaven she was derived.  

He will always feel inside that for his life he owes Mrs. Fry.

-i.m