Where I would rest seraphim fly.

Prose about those among us who inspire.

On broken wings a seraph lives through a life of deceptiveness as customary. She accepts all as fate and shows thin under her burden. Now in security she reflects and looks to take that life again?!

Where I would rest, seraphim fly.

I beg you, rest, heal and take zephyr winds, I can not emulate you even in a lighter trek or better alacrity.

Where I would rest, seraphim fly!

I can not follow. Leave me, but return with news your journey was easy. Then, where you have gone I might follow knowing that an adoring practiced entity spoke and then the confidence gives me strength.

Where I would rest, seraphim fly!