Archangel’s work and walk alone,
maybe get to flirt with pretty, hard luck
waitresses in all night pancake houses.
Always a war to fight, a demon to repel,
as even heaven itself catches flames now,
and there’s no time for dates or smoke breaks.
Endless war and battle and toil wearing
even creatures of light down, of love, duty.
Even the believers have guns in their hands.
As they wipe the gore from their silver swords,
they try to think of the sister hugging her baby brother,
of the mother wiping away her daughter’s tears.
Try to remember to hear the prayers that are
not barbed with venom, that call on God in the darkness,
those that are so desperate for the light.
And, for a moment after another demon slain,
or another innocent lost, or any fire starting to burn,
they watch families love and protect one another.
They fight for what they can never have,
these creatures of light, love and duty.