Fall from the grace

She was trying very hard to not let herself enervate in front of him but in spite of her efforts, she had started growing pale. With her palms pressed against his ears strongly and tenderly to ensconce him from the noise of demonism around, she looked into his eyes and her head tilted inadvertently. Lost for words, consciously or unconsciously her eyes kept asking for forgiveness; forgiveness for not being able to shield him from the evils, for failing him. She felt a tear rolling-off on her cheek. Maybe, she had never anticipated tearing-up but she hardly anticipated anything any more. Still, that little boy in front of him, and his naivete, they could easily make her believe not all good was lost yet. 

“Why are you crying? We can go back home and have cookies. Don’t cry”, said the innocent toddler wiping the shiny trail of tear on the angel’s face. Thwarted by those puerile eyes, she burst into the river of tears and kissed him. More affirmed than before, she touched his face and vowed no wrong could touch him till she was alive. At once, she saw his whole childhood of last 3 years featuring before her eyes. How she has always wanted him to be stronger, grateful for everything around him and now was the time he could feel conflicted. With all the anarchy around, and the killings, and the swords she still wanted his innocence untouched.

“Why can’t we just go home? I want to sleep”, he chirped while getting his head out of the tight grip.

“Oh my dear, home is where love is. And just remember I will always love you. If you want to sleep, you may as well lie down in my lap and I’ll sing you your favorite lullaby”. She gathered her wings that had been cut-off by the swords and tried to enshroud him for protection against those winds which had envisaged something very portentous.

With hope on her lips and despair in her heart, barely a word sprouted out from her mouth. But the crescendo of the anarchism around, she was in no way letting him get exposed and she took on with the same angelic voice she had always had.  The clamor around scared her but she whispered in his ears, “Never be scared. Always fight for the good and win will be yours. No matter how I'll always be right beside you”.  She had held on her wounds for so long but they had taken toll on her. The bloodshed had her white bode turned red, but her face hardly showed any pain. Not caring about the dagger plunged in her back; she just kept thinking of what worst can happen to him and the lullaby floated in the air until they faltered out and evaporated. 

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This is my response to the WriteOnEdge challenge to use the picture from below.