Angels Key

an angel with a broken spirit, clinging to humanity

with forgotten hope and a dying soul, he lays himself down

gingerly placing the buried emotion into a rusted cage

locked with a severed key, and an iron seal

the key is set into the wandering eyes of men, in plain sight

but such an object is overlooked time and time again

waiting to catch the attention of a single human soul

a collector of broken things, and a seemingly worthless object

she desperately ushers people aside, in hopes of being the first

the first to behold an entity of so much potential

unknownst to her the constant quest of man

to find something greater than an everyday object in the street

but to her, this was her life practice, to find the broken things

this was her greater, this was her everything

and the angel could feel the humans warmth

and began to cry, the first feeling in what felt like millennia

and instead of the anticipated pain and hatred, it was one of love

one that not even agape, philia, or eros could complete

for it was different, timeless, simple, and completely her own

the box remained with the angel, but it felt almost weightless

and he could finally rest, as someone had finally taken possession

and for the first time he drifted off, as the collector tenderly polished the key