He had been sitting in the same position all day. His bare back had grown cold from the icy breeze. He had long lost the feelings in his legs. All he could feel were the tears falling from his grey eyes. Crying was all he had done for four days. He had thought that at one point his tears would dry up. It never happened. It was as if the tears were part of him.
He felt like cursing the world to oblivion, destroying it for being so unfair, for snatching the one had loved from him. He could no longer take the pain inside him. He screamed until his throat threatened to burst. But his scream fell on the deaf ears of the world. There was no one to listen to him and his woes. The only one he had was now gone.
Then suddenly, he realized that it was warm. He had not noticed when, how or why. Opening his eyes, he saw two wings surrounding him. He staggered to his feet and he realised that they were in fact his wings. All came back to him:
“To gain what was lost
Lose what had been gained
From the cold ashes
Will rise The Grey One
The Angel of Tears.”
Unlike his brothers, who had either bright white or pitch black wings, he had dull grey ones. He had been banished as a Fallen Angel; for he had experienced joy. But now he had earned his wings back. He could get back to where he belonged. He felt no joy. Not that he hated the place or that he liked Earth. Just that he was The Angel of Tears - the one without the smile.
With one final leap, he flew up into the dark, moonless night.
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