The Angel

And the angel said, "you aren't doing enough."
and he said "doesn't it hurt?
And I said "Why should it hurt when my blood is jelly
and my hope is wayward, and my salvation
is at the end of the road?"
And the doors were closed and the wheels were broken
and decayed and I sat upon the ground,
desolate.

And the angel came and offered  his hand. I didn't take it.
I didn't rise. I didn't crawl on my knees alongside him.
I asked him for a drink of water,
and he gave it to me.
I asked him to stay,
and he sat beside me.
He took my hand and bound it to his.
He took our hearts and bound them together.
And the dust blew and the hot sun beat down,
and the red sky looked down without mercy,
and we sat upon the ground,
desolate.