Disaggregated Angels

Disaggregated Angels Upon white shores shaded spumes ignites, and at last young Angels disaggregated! All too seemingly troubled or angered, some took to the winds when within motions carved deep curves in the line drawn-out, and so on deployed motives wrapped in soft down that with light friction bolstered a yelp contained by fragile shafts of white equal to loud, beached thunder. To all willing this was the way of the flight, when with the will twenty geared up for green pastures. Where onto the bleached fields struck the lastly blows of fright; delighted to the eyes of all in needless surprise! And then, they, schemed off to higher hills ready to take grasp of a sharp breeze, and on reach heights within an exodus! Clinched within a tighter grip, most set for departures; those of which were lost inside tormented quarrels, where then the victors to the last of all accounts it seemed the same, when with no doubt each had lost the bet at the foot! reality seemed to have gently withered upon graphite of grey, somewhat washed-out upon worn-down, rumpus, beached coasts. Recited were tale of muttered fear, those in all events that traveled upon rustic granules of sands; where short were the walks of despair? This, a token-toll to the blind full of willingness to rectify that done wrong, as so common done! Thunder clobbered heavy when it struck one with three to the ground? All gazed aguishly-sly, and in total wonder searched for the culprits guilty of the blow without, and then soon realized that it came from deep within; not far from the edge of certain doom. How fortunate that it was not from afar, where perhaps unreachable? In a stupor full of gazes, all might be fit to worry on the thought of being perturbed, knowing quite well that all the arrogance would be to the demise of the mobs fronting rights of might, as if they all knew the quest desired, and then the way ahead . . . really . . . wow? Was this written on the warned-out walls, years ago? The text engraved with silver coins thrown about at the foot as if dolls to be played with? For a weaker moment as the fool-hearted man, one quicker than the others at the farce of life, rightly took the bait? As if dead, raw fish already on the round plate, ready! He, prepared to be served, that along the others who had given up long ago? Across the deepest parts of the River Styx, all were ferried within their own! The One at that very moment in time bewildered the troop onto the venture to the deep need of things not needed? Then on upon a dare or request, ventured for the search for true hypocrisy; as if the right given at birth . . . and so forth in a fool’s mind, again, the rival hands’ shifted over loud gestures, and then forfeited the need to be; where the mighty judge would show the way forth. He would do this of course, healthy in his own brand of diplomacy . . . then you will see? One blinked an eye as the others conveyed true distress to the unknowing gifted with delay! Thereon, upon the wall, the query-One trembled callously when backed into a corner, most likely ready to submit to life, or death; the path ahead impeccably negotiated! Painted upon bleached canvases, some delivered words of wisdom sometimes forgotten? Maybe the ink transcribed was not deep enough? For the graffiti washed-out long ago; leaving nothing but dull remnants trenched into grey blotches equal to worn-down sidewalks largely trampled upon, those embedded with sweet sticky-gum? Go figure? Shut your mouth, please shut your mouth, and don’t say another word; for your thoughts already gravitate beyond speculations. Where the will of none other than its own, and in some way with all ears to the wall, they would hear you with anguished plight deep in mind, and then take you down! Quivers of density rivalled the principal in charge, and then in turn relinquished doubt; which to all present made tremors of marvel likely to rattle the Almighty to Hell, well beyond barbed redemption merited! Within sparks of tranquility brought forth the righteous One, and inside the conquest lingered the foot of mercy, which seemed to no avail, if at all put true within the radical calls for the tolling of the iron bell. Upon the ring, noisy batters sounded calls of raucous wings that then on spread wide, those of angry archangels! Who at the time were on the edge of busting-out, and in the near end caught up in the wave of winds full of flutters, and on, they in fact were dubious to marked trails; thus the smack of the hand pushed on, forward. In practical consequences, life so known was then saturated with the gloomiest calls of deeper grievances, those barely coherent. Where were they, the Mighty, if at all mighty to all! They, the Ones who should have known better, and upon the incline of the high, rolling hills let there be someone to belch words of mercy, at the most done at the catch of everyone upon the fall to their bloody knees. Allowed was determination, at the most negotiated to the grumps of moral contenders, those of which were within time as time would allow, then somewhat not needed when forgotten through time itself . . . how quaint was that! Nevertheless, it would be what in all was to be, and rightly within rights! All would suffer to the Ones given Divinity, as if the way forth determined well ahead, and this mind you never questioned, why? Daggers dug deep in the backs of the lovelies, and in wells of endless waters, all fell to despair; never once knowing why or what all was to be, regardless of the variety of knowledge bestowed to thee! Remember the day lost, some said; for once it is gone, there would be no other such, and in sequence bring mounds of destiny to all that was at last given respect! "Therefore" he shouted, "Never forgets where it came from!" when to the care of the bold or the need to disaggregate within hefty quarrels? In the near end fortified forever for the love of the all ever so glowing! That of which blinded the eyes to none other than the bright light, and with all of strength go beyond to which is what was aspired for all along, and then far beyond that, of which is needless doubt?