One Final Fairytale

Once upon a time in a world of plagued dreams.
There was a boy with silent nights, interrupted by night's screams.
A life lived among shadows to avoid terror's crossfires.
Pain was the only love he knew,
a love that resembled electricity flowing through metal wires.

First crib was a bed full of nails,
born into a life of despair.
A reality defined by true grit,
forced to inhale the malice that lingered in air.
A community under a cloud,
a place where the sun seldom shines.
Everyday rain washed away the Lord's grace,
Until even guardian angels were blind.

Only in a mother's arms he could weather the storm,
Death blew his father away in the wind,
so a major piece of his heart was torn.
To wash away the agony,
he recalls fairy tales he was told as a child.
Through narrations by a loving mother,
the only one that could bring back his smile.

The phenomena that ruptures souls,
troubled by the aspect of fate.
Inescapable inevitability,
no figure to spawn from the shadows wearing a cape.
A life lived on the edge,
reality just needed to give the final shove.
Looked up for a second in hope of a miracle,
then rested his neck knowing he would get no love from above.

Bad news of malignant pain,
one that overrides any positive emotion.
No chance to survive,
no cure or magic potion.
He wept while his mother refused,
not a single tear.
She knew within the world they lived,
there is a drought of happiness here.

Strong mother,
lost the life of a lover.
Now she's losing another,
two replaceable by no other.
Wounds that scar to the tissue,
no procedure to mend.
Don't know what fate will lead to,
upon time it only depends.

Time has made the choice,
and fate follows the decision.
She sits by his hospital bed,
his eyes with blurred vision.
With moments settling,
she tells her boy a story.
One of a fairy tale,
no villains, no heroes, just one of glory.

Life comes to many,
but death reaches us all.
Some are blessed to be a diamond in the rough,
and those few can approach death standing tall.
Angels born on Earth,
on route to return to their home.
To help with God's work,
to lead others to wings that they've yet grown.

The angels she spoke of,
similar to that of her son.
She smiled and said,
of all that exists you are my favorite one.
Muscles lacking any strength,
only feelings of weak.
Both sensing the end was near,
soon he'd endure eternal sleep.

The mother ended the tale,
in which this happily ever after made no mistake.
And told him his would be the same,
as his soul will float to heaven's gates.
He was that rose that sprouted from a world of concrete,
the golden boy with wings found in a dirt field.
The disease of humanity that led him to his grave,
his mother gazed at her son until a flat line was revealed.
She gently kissed him on the forehead and smiled,
knowing the heavens would now be the new home of her angelic child.