Come in so many forms.
We don’t like to remember the ferocious angels of Christian mythology, fighting devils and demons, vanquishing evil and sending its doers down to hell. We prefer the Botticelli cherubs that are omniscient in book stores and gift shops.
Yesterday’s rain of angels was very destructive: damaged roofs, clogged drains and all matter of broken glass materials.
Few human casualties were reported and mostly were non fatal, but for the case of Gladys Simmons, 98, who had started to run in the rain, her arms raised to the sky and singing alleluias.
Angels with wings… what about without wings? Would their name change just because they don’t have wings? Would they still be considered wonderful and beautiful and “angelic”? Or would they be more like zombies since they are already dead?
There were angels all around her and she wondered what she was going to do once they descended. Their fangs were at the ready and the girl froze, hands over her head just waiting for the angelic blows to come. This situation was hopeless and it was only the devil and his hounds that could save her. One deep breath, there was no sound just the silent loom of a heavenly beast.
angels have wings. i don’t believe in angels, i want to believe in spirits but i miss people too much. i like wings, i with i could fly. if i had a superpower, that would be it. but angels, they aren’t pure, how can one be completely pure? i don’t know if its possible. perhaps i have felt robbed of being pure. angels aren’t all glowing and white.
to be safe. in a mortal world. no time for sin. even after the rain. up in the air. take away all pain. watch for the becoming. dont stop believing. time will tell. until the seraphim dance.
i wish i was one, sometimes. heaven access, wings, halos, the whole thing. i could be everywhere, with everyone, with him. i could keep watch, and spread icicles of love across his pillow.
i don’t imagine angels to be those beautiful creatures in their ethereal white robes with cutesy golden-plated halos floating about their heads. they’re more like the regular people you see walking down the street, whether they be the homeless, abandoned elderly man or the gorgeous businesswoman.
you and i, we could both be angels.
but then again, i could never be a saint.
mythical, biblical, winged, white, blonde, not so blonde, arrogant, sexless, songsters, clouds, i’m not sure if i even really believe in them but this is the random thoughts that jump into my head.
I use to think we each had two angels which rested on our shoulders. And if you ever needed a favor, you’d politely ask of your angels to make it happen. Well, now, I don’t need to ask. I want what I have.
standing above us, always on guard, their swords drawn against the evil that plauges us. Their wings of light guiding us down our chosen paths. Their faces stony and silent their scars bore with pride.
Angels. I think of heavenly beings, and I am reminded of going to church as a child, singing the hymns, especially at christmas, standing with my family, listening. The warmth from the candlelight. The songs lifting up.
i hate angels i dont believe in them wtf? why couldnt i get a cooler word.. ?! hm but what if angels really DID exist… i suppose this isnt displaying my true abilities as a writer.. was that the point of this? or to see my initial reaction? uh oh going into the red zone! dfhshbfkjbfk
angels rise on the horizon accompanying the sun, it is a bright and early morning when steve saw his first. it is not unsual for a human to nitice them rising with the morning sun but this time there was something different, something extrodinary, something
arent real. but beautiful none the less. my dad and i used to look for them when we went on vacations, it made the plane ride much less scary to think they were
It’s a long story. But I only have a minute… It all started when I wasn’t born yet. I knew everything…but there was a catch. They told me SHHHH and pressed their fingers to my lips. I was not to say a word. :(
angels aren’t real. i messed up a couple of timse an djust wrote angles arent real, but that’s a lie. angles are real, except eevrything we say is just said because we need reasons for everything. so really an angle isnt an angle, and who cares anyways when we’re all just gona get sucked int oa black whole and just split so tiny theres nothing left, right?
o angels we have heard on high echoing their (something) refrain…
oh i got me angel
stuck round my head
says he’s tryin to keep me
from endin up dead
well i said look out wings
i’m headin out
and it’s pure devilment i’ll be poundin out
i said
i don’t mind if you come along
you can watch me go at it all night long
and maybe in the morning you can lift up
but don’t expect me to let go a’ my cup
angels live in heaven, where there are other beautiful things… such as candycanes, gumdrops, icicles, and bowling balls. don’t forget the pins. after all, when it thunders they say that got is bowling. i suppose there is probably a pool (of course, it would be a heated pool) too. i would love heaven.
bright halos with smily faces. Happy people, serene and quite helping, guiding and loving. Life helpers. In time of sorrow a shoulder to cry on. In time of need a basket of food. Always there to comfort.
Some women wear them as pins. I’ve seen them in gift shops and Catholic shops on pens and pins and rear view mirror placards. I like the stories and I love the idea of having a guardian angel but I’m not Catholic so I wouldn’t feel right about owning one.
i dont know how to explain what he did to me. his face haunts my every move because he was suppose to be the one. the inside of me and every short and tender moment was all a lie. his halo was made of stirafoam and his smile was all hallow. every man i try to have a relationship i am haunted by his abuse… his torture… for a man named ‘Angel’ he sure was a devil to me.
I don’t really believe in angels, becuase I thin we don’t need them. I knwo so many people who are there to save and to protect. We created them when the world was scary, now it isn’t.
The tiny white fairy seemed to watch me from her spot in the picture. When life would get tough I would gaze at her innoent face and everything would just seem right again…like it would get better. I trusted her.
are not real but something that people use in place of explaining coincidence or unexplainable events. When I was younger, I used to spell Angels incorrectly. I would spell it: angles. I dont know what this proves except that I may be dislexic. Moreover, it proves that I think in a different way than that of other people who spell the way that typical people do and believe the things that typical people do and thus live a life as typical people do.
i once was an angel living in the clouds watching slowly as the people below me died i wanted to save them but i couldn’t i just watched whispering advice but nobody listened because nobody cared but i just wanted to warn them before they died because when they died doing evil things they would never see me only hell. but there once was a guy who i wanted to marry. he was down there. i sacrificed myself to save him. so he could be angel. i loved him.
The lightness of being. God’s warriors, angels swoop down from the heavens and frequently save the followers (and even those who aren’t) of God. Are they real? Do they really help others? What is their be-all-end-all purpose?
What once fluttered above my head flew away back into the sky.
i cannot see you, but I know you are watching me.
I know you are there.
He flew back once more & whispered in my ear; “You are a wonderful creature. You are a wonderful being.”
As he flew away once more I couldn’t help but shout back: “May you never loose your wings!”
the wings that fluttered above her head made her think of an angels wings… the soft fluttering sound as the bird flew higher and higher, she raised her camera and snapped several shots before it got away. afterwards she sat in silence as the beauty overwhelmed her and filled her with happiness.
there were once agnels inside of the devils world. they tried to escape but they couldnt, they simply couldnt. all they could find was an apple in which said: “there is no use in trying, simply fright your way back to hell” the angels could not help but believe this apple they didnt want to go away
Angels, such a beautiful thing. Such a thing of the past. What was he thinking when he chose her for his project? What was he thinking when he followed her that night? Maybe it was that she would be his next victim, perhaps he’d grown accustomed to being around her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the right choice. She was so lovely, like an anlge. Why didn’t she turn around and look at him? That would be the last wrong decision she would make of her life.
Come in so many forms.
We don’t like to remember the ferocious angels of Christian mythology, fighting devils and demons, vanquishing evil and sending its doers down to hell. We prefer the Botticelli cherubs that are omniscient in book stores and gift shops.
Yesterday’s rain of angels was very destructive: damaged roofs, clogged drains and all matter of broken glass materials.
Few human casualties were reported and mostly were non fatal, but for the case of Gladys Simmons, 98, who had started to run in the rain, her arms raised to the sky and singing alleluias.
Angels with wings… what about without wings? Would their name change just because they don’t have wings? Would they still be considered wonderful and beautiful and “angelic”? Or would they be more like zombies since they are already dead?
As I watched her lay on the ground, I knew I would be seeing angels soon.
There were angels all around her and she wondered what she was going to do once they descended. Their fangs were at the ready and the girl froze, hands over her head just waiting for the angelic blows to come. This situation was hopeless and it was only the devil and his hounds that could save her. One deep breath, there was no sound just the silent loom of a heavenly beast.
angels have wings. i don’t believe in angels, i want to believe in spirits but i miss people too much. i like wings, i with i could fly. if i had a superpower, that would be it. but angels, they aren’t pure, how can one be completely pure? i don’t know if its possible. perhaps i have felt robbed of being pure. angels aren’t all glowing and white.
they come from the heaven
beautiful as they are on the wings of fantasy afar
what woulndt i do do meet them i real?
of all things not to dissappear
to be safe. in a mortal world. no time for sin. even after the rain. up in the air. take away all pain. watch for the becoming. dont stop believing. time will tell. until the seraphim dance.
broken. naked. i miss your presence. pure in ideal – sinned in practice. wounded. aching.
your deaths are so hard…
because you actually dared to live.
beautiful
i wish i was one, sometimes. heaven access, wings, halos, the whole thing. i could be everywhere, with everyone, with him. i could keep watch, and spread icicles of love across his pillow.
i don’t imagine angels to be those beautiful creatures in their ethereal white robes with cutesy golden-plated halos floating about their heads. they’re more like the regular people you see walking down the street, whether they be the homeless, abandoned elderly man or the gorgeous businesswoman.
you and i, we could both be angels.
but then again, i could never be a saint.
mythical, biblical, winged, white, blonde, not so blonde, arrogant, sexless, songsters, clouds, i’m not sure if i even really believe in them but this is the random thoughts that jump into my head.
I use to think we each had two angels which rested on our shoulders. And if you ever needed a favor, you’d politely ask of your angels to make it happen. Well, now, I don’t need to ask. I want what I have.
standing above us, always on guard, their swords drawn against the evil that plauges us. Their wings of light guiding us down our chosen paths. Their faces stony and silent their scars bore with pride.
Angels. I think of heavenly beings, and I am reminded of going to church as a child, singing the hymns, especially at christmas, standing with my family, listening. The warmth from the candlelight. The songs lifting up.
i hate angels i dont believe in them wtf? why couldnt i get a cooler word.. ?! hm but what if angels really DID exist… i suppose this isnt displaying my true abilities as a writer.. was that the point of this? or to see my initial reaction? uh oh going into the red zone! dfhshbfkjbfk
angels rise on the horizon accompanying the sun, it is a bright and early morning when steve saw his first. it is not unsual for a human to nitice them rising with the morning sun but this time there was something different, something extrodinary, something
arent real. but beautiful none the less. my dad and i used to look for them when we went on vacations, it made the plane ride much less scary to think they were
It’s a long story. But I only have a minute… It all started when I wasn’t born yet. I knew everything…but there was a catch. They told me SHHHH and pressed their fingers to my lips. I was not to say a word. :(
angels aren’t real. i messed up a couple of timse an djust wrote angles arent real, but that’s a lie. angles are real, except eevrything we say is just said because we need reasons for everything. so really an angle isnt an angle, and who cares anyways when we’re all just gona get sucked int oa black whole and just split so tiny theres nothing left, right?
o angels we have heard on high echoing their (something) refrain…
oh i got me angel
stuck round my head
says he’s tryin to keep me
from endin up dead
well i said look out wings
i’m headin out
and it’s pure devilment i’ll be poundin out
i said
i don’t mind if you come along
you can watch me go at it all night long
and maybe in the morning you can lift up
but don’t expect me to let go a’ my cup
angels live in heaven, where there are other beautiful things… such as candycanes, gumdrops, icicles, and bowling balls. don’t forget the pins. after all, when it thunders they say that got is bowling. i suppose there is probably a pool (of course, it would be a heated pool) too. i would love heaven.
bright halos with smily faces. Happy people, serene and quite helping, guiding and loving. Life helpers. In time of sorrow a shoulder to cry on. In time of need a basket of food. Always there to comfort.
Some women wear them as pins. I’ve seen them in gift shops and Catholic shops on pens and pins and rear view mirror placards. I like the stories and I love the idea of having a guardian angel but I’m not Catholic so I wouldn’t feel right about owning one.
i dont know how to explain what he did to me. his face haunts my every move because he was suppose to be the one. the inside of me and every short and tender moment was all a lie. his halo was made of stirafoam and his smile was all hallow. every man i try to have a relationship i am haunted by his abuse… his torture… for a man named ‘Angel’ he sure was a devil to me.
Angels don’t tell you not to give up.
They do not stand in golden-light symphonies with Cottonelle wings to wish you hope.
Instead they drag you. Like zombies:
“join us, if you will”
demons, they are the fallen angels. they dwell in the myths of religion and philosophy. it isn’t surprising that they are portrayed as evil.
Angels, they say everyone has a guardian angel. I’d really like to believe it, coz I certainly need one in my life.
Do I believe in Angels?? Well… I do actually. Otherwise I have no hope of surviving in this world you see.
angels are the things that make us happy
and make us thankful
we hope they are watching over us
and we hope they are the loved ones who have passed
we know one day the angels might grace us with a touch, a vision or a whispher
we hope for them to be our guide into the after life
I don’t really believe in angels, becuase I thin we don’t need them. I knwo so many people who are there to save and to protect. We created them when the world was scary, now it isn’t.
The tiny white fairy seemed to watch me from her spot in the picture. When life would get tough I would gaze at her innoent face and everything would just seem right again…like it would get better. I trusted her.
are not real but something that people use in place of explaining coincidence or unexplainable events. When I was younger, I used to spell Angels incorrectly. I would spell it: angles. I dont know what this proves except that I may be dislexic. Moreover, it proves that I think in a different way than that of other people who spell the way that typical people do and believe the things that typical people do and thus live a life as typical people do.
i once was an angel living in the clouds watching slowly as the people below me died i wanted to save them but i couldn’t i just watched whispering advice but nobody listened because nobody cared but i just wanted to warn them before they died because when they died doing evil things they would never see me only hell. but there once was a guy who i wanted to marry. he was down there. i sacrificed myself to save him. so he could be angel. i loved him.
The lightness of being. God’s warriors, angels swoop down from the heavens and frequently save the followers (and even those who aren’t) of God. Are they real? Do they really help others? What is their be-all-end-all purpose?
What once fluttered above my head flew away back into the sky.
i cannot see you, but I know you are watching me.
I know you are there.
He flew back once more & whispered in my ear; “You are a wonderful creature. You are a wonderful being.”
As he flew away once more I couldn’t help but shout back: “May you never loose your wings!”
the wings that fluttered above her head made her think of an angels wings… the soft fluttering sound as the bird flew higher and higher, she raised her camera and snapped several shots before it got away. afterwards she sat in silence as the beauty overwhelmed her and filled her with happiness.
there were once agnels inside of the devils world. they tried to escape but they couldnt, they simply couldnt. all they could find was an apple in which said: “there is no use in trying, simply fright your way back to hell” the angels could not help but believe this apple they didnt want to go away
“I made you,” said God, “to do what I, with My omnipotence, cannot.”
The angel cracked her neck, rolled her tremendous ice-blue eyes, then lit a cigarette. She blew a perfect smoke ring.
“That makes no sense at all,” she mumbled, exasperated.
Angels, such a beautiful thing. Such a thing of the past. What was he thinking when he chose her for his project? What was he thinking when he followed her that night? Maybe it was that she would be his next victim, perhaps he’d grown accustomed to being around her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the right choice. She was so lovely, like an anlge. Why didn’t she turn around and look at him? That would be the last wrong decision she would make of her life.