angel in despair

I used to be an angel personified. I was someone who radiates happiness, whose kind words would always echo to someone's ears. I was smiling all the time, even at strangers. People sought my presence for some enjoyable conversation. I was someone who is willing to extend help to anyone who needs it. I was a shallow person, laughing at silly questions and petty jokes.

But not anymore. Happiness has eluded me for quite some time now.

I feel it and I hate it. It is as though hundreds of Dementors have gone from Azkaban to snatch the bliss out of me. And I am now empty, drained and miserable.

The heartbroken angel appears dejected with head down, halo in hand, tattered gown and steady wings. It never crossed my mind that an angel might need rest sometimes. I never thought one could get tired of happiness.

In the comfort of darkness, I seek pleasure. In my barren world, I look for hope. Amidst tears, I begged for happiness. I uttered silent words, some half prayers. And I wanted to shout and to cry out loud, wishing some mortal would hear me and comfort my desolate soul.

Maybe, just maybe, that one of these days, the angel in me would come to life - with wings spanned and flapping, with halo round and glistening, with face raised and smiling.