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Angel's Courtyard Lullaby

I wish I had an angel
to remember what it feels like to have blind faith in something
(or someone)
for the moment it takes the angel to start to wonder
and feel just as confused,
just as empty,
just as lonely,
as the rest of us down here --
living in viewing distance
of what heaven and hell paint for us.

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My guardian angel does not know whether to laugh or cry,
every time I go to bed and turn off the lights
in devoted prayer that I do not have to wake the morning after,
and maybe go down in a joyful spread of dream-like paradise.

For that he has concocted a fire-proof formula,
to allow my demons run amock
and create a pattern of nightmarish phobias
that will make me run to safety,
in his living embraceful arms.

However this plan seems flaky,
since I have tea with the devil every afternoon
and he has promised me that both heaven and hell
are boring places anyway.

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