Angelic wings, black in color, against the light blue evening sky.
What is it he sees in the distance, past Human sight?
The waves reach him, prayers of peace and love, but he disregards them with out a second glance.
He only listens for one voice to reach his ears.
A voice unlike any other; calm and quiet, but at the same time harsh and cruel.
His hair is loose as it blows between the falling feathers.
Light chestnut brown meets black gray as he turns to the voice he seeks.
It calls his name, as he knew it long ago.
A name he hadn�t heard in so long, he barely recognized it.
A small smile crosses his lips and he closes his eyes with a nod.
Black tinted glasses mark his presence among us, walking down the street, looking for who, whist he came.
Wings hidden from those who are blind to recognize them, hair braided at his back.
His eyes create fire with a heatless burn.
A light in the dark, but you would never think it would be him to cast the glow.
His laugh is like a child as he makes his way across the crowded streets.
The key was where he thought it would be, where he left it last.
Closing the door, he walked quietly down the hall to the room he left before.
The bed is clean and the curtains drawn to shut out the sunlight.
The lamp is dim, but one, casting eerie shadows against his face.
His true nature is still sealed beneath his jacket.
Taking the hat and glasses, he sets them on the bureau and crosses his arms.
His blue eyes cast that stare which could come from but one place.
�Death on the Wind, you came once before.� His words are like thunder in his ears.
With a slight nod, he turns to remove his jacket.
A feather falls to the carpet.
Still the wings can�t be seen, even with the jacket in the corner chair.
Kneeling on the bed, he looks up to the man from under his bangs.
�Why�d you call me this time?� He pleads to know the answer.
He looks up from under dark brown bangs, hiding his deep blue eyes from the dim lighting around him.
He never speaks but his eyes tell all.
�Cast a reflection.
�Break a spell.
�This life you lead needs to end, am I right?� He sat on the edge of the bed.
His wings were visible now, to all who could see, backing him in a black glow of light.
He sighed and shook his head slowly, dropping his gaze to the wrinkled sheets.
�I�ll only do this once for you.�
A hand touches his, soft as it was before.
He looks up to meet the dark blue eyes, much like his own, a deathly stare.
He still says nothing and his eyes still tell all.
The light casting dark shadows to an empty room as a feather falls to the carpet on the ground.