God left us,
And if I may profess,
We pray to the wrong being.
Those who answer are present,
Unseen but seen.
They are around and within.
Some even sin.
Brothers and Sisters.
Sons and Daughters.
Family and Friends.
We think,
We pray,
We hope,
We fear,
They appear.
The angels among us.
God may have left,
But the angels comfort.
These angels are the unheard,
But they are our guides.
In the face of troubles,
They show pride,
And radiate a sense of guarantee.
Angels are many.
Warriors, scholars, friends.
Yet, they are divine.
It all must be by design?
God saw no reason to stay,
Because we have allies when we are astray?
Oddly encouraging,
And wholly trusting.