Monday, 1 March 2021


Charmeine curled her wings around her body, shielding herself from the night’s cold. Sat, upon the highest mountain, she reflected upon her recent thoughts. She was, for all intents and purposes, the Angel of harmony. The together Angel, the ever-apart Angel, meant to bring people together or, sadly, to tear them apart when the time arrived.

She adored peace and tolerance, the togetherness of two becoming one or, possibly, the chance of harmony within society. She closed her eyes, unable to deflect the sadness within her heart. The Human race was adrift. Mother’s against Sons. Father’s against Daughters. The disharmony of the many minds being twisted for the evillest of intentions.

She was used to healing hearts, soothing the breaks and pains formed within, yet she knew not the way to heal and harness harmony for the current events. Mass Media had, finally, consumed the hearts and minds of the many, controlled by the few that were far between. The Angels were restricted, banned for eternity, from meddling within the affairs of man and yet, somehow, the greatest evil imaginable had crept amongst them as they slept. The spoken word, the written syllable, used of evil incarnations. The pen, once seen as mightier than the sword, had become more powerful than the very soul of a man or woman.

The infection had spread, the cancerous notifications pacifying the weakest of hearts and minds. The human race, the humanity within each of them, secretly wishing for peace. The price, too high. The result, pacification. They had accepted the spoken word without question, the masses chastising the few that questioned. She’d stood within the times of Witches and Warlocks. She’d known the time where any Woman that spoke a word out of turn, would be called a witch and burned to a crisp. This, however, was far, far worse. The cancellation of a human being becoming a fate worse than death itself.

She placed her fingers onto the ground, as the soil seethed and smoked upon her touch. The very surface of the Earth, tainted and poisoned by the years of destruction ravaging the tree lines. The insects, the animals, all cast aside for the ever need for expansion. A new cinema, a new parking lot, or the latest fad to later be cast aside and forgotten. She knew that the earth eventually reclaimed discarded land, the soft soil speaking volumes to her very soul, but the balance had started to tip ever further towards desolation.

The Human Race hadn’t changed over the centuries. The same fears, the same base instincts, the many following the few. She wished to scream, to shout, to smash their houses until they knew real fear. The children held against her chest upon the awakening of their race, had become insolent. Their impudence betrayed their meek and weak-willed nature. They had, for what it would be worth, forgotten how to really suffer.

She stood, her wings unfolding, her eyes glistening to the tune of a thousand sparkling lights from the cities below. She stood, proud, respectful, no longer allowing her own anger and solace to infect her thoughts. They would stand and fall upon their own knees. They would eventually look towards the heavens, weeping tears of pain and sobriety upon their final days.

Her wings moved and, with a gentle hop, she flew into the air with the speed of a thousand jet engines. Hearts called to her, hearts willing to be joined upon a night of unity. This was her task, her ever destiny, upon this universe and emotional plane. She’d known a thousand versions of this place, she’d seen a hundred worlds burn, over and over again. This place, their hearts, had so far stood the test of time. The precipice was close, but not close enough to avoid. She’d overthrow their governments, stamp upon the faces of deceit and emotional gluttony, but that would again cause devastation of another kind.

The human race believed themselves to be divine. A race upon the very heavens above. The creations of gods. They were, to their basic level, animals and all animals were, in one way or another, ruled by the cowardly and deceitful villains set within any story. The day to day, the ever-stale happenings of each life, never to be broken or set free. Anarchy be rained upon them, if they knew that they were but specs within the universe of souls.

Charmeine slowed her flight as two individuals appeared upon her eyes. They walked with slow, calm, steps. The lovers, the stars above lighting their way, as she smiled upon them. Their blessings were assured until, upon a given day, one of them succumbed to their greed, impudence, idolatry, enmity, jealousy, resentment or sexual immorality. The sins of the ages, infecting more and more as their Mass Media ensured social decay and disorder.

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