A Useless Pray
All these years, the angel only lived on a twilight. It was an infinite room of people glowing. So often she swayed by the golden dim of others that she beginning to cling into them.
I wish for that angel to tell her that she already glow beautifully.
Hi, angel, do you hear me?
Not a slender body nor a finest Spain guitar.
Not a A, B, C, nor D.
Not smart nor clumsy.
Not independent nor helpless.
It's just you.