We all, used to be God-like beings,
Until a black cloud of insecure thoughts, and careless actions plagued the world in which we dwell upon.
And Lucifer wrapped it up, in a blanket of sin, to deliver to God as a slap in the face,
But we angels don’t give up so easily.
And even though he tries again and again to bring us, we remain victorious. God is just so glorious.
He leads us down the path of right and wrong, and even though we are tempted by Lucifer we remian strong.
All of us, together as one, bear down through hard times until we have won.
Even though the battle is between good... See More and evil is not yet undone,
We stand here together until we have won.
Won, ended the pain and strife so that all of us can have everlasting life.
We angels don’t give up; not even when our hearts are ripped half way out of our tired bodies.
It just makes it easier for us to love you.
Here on Earth walks a population of miracle workers that give life, and raise seeds, to become the beautiful flowers that bless the ground gravity pulls us to.
Angels walk upon this very Earth, and grow beautiful roses; from the cracks in the pavement.
Angels that grow daisies, in concrete jungles;
We call them Mothers.
They produce fresh air, in a world that will choke you to death, if you breathe it in too fast.
Because of this, Heaven waits for the gardeners of this world.
But Heaven could not wait for this one.
For Rana,
She lives in a penthouse, on the top floor of Heaven, right across the hall from God;
And if you listen closely, you can hear her singing a beautiful song of Cheyenne through the whistling of the trees as they hug the air at sunrise.
Cheyenne, the symphony she plays on the strings of her heart, makes God smile whenever he hears it.
Look closely into the eyes of the gorgeous people on this Earth, and you can see Rana’s beauty, through our inner Heavens.
Hold our hands, and feel the warmth of an amber stone flowing through our veins.
Embrace our chests, and hold onto our backs, as we hold you, until the pain seeps out of your heart onto the ground beneath us.
And I know some of our brothers and sister aren’t as merciful, but if you look pass the pain scraped onto their faces, you can see the God in them too.
Upstairs from an angel with gold wings, and right next door to Martin Luther King, Rana taps her foot to the melody of your voice Cheyenne.
So whenever you start to lose your breath from the rapid flow of tears, just feel the rhythm of your heart beat;
Feel the tap of your mother’s feet.
And every time the sun light shines down on your face,
Just know it’s your mother’s hand caressing your cheek as you go forth into the world.
And as you travel through this world, you’ll do whatever you feel is right.
And as the world silences itself at night; to let tragedy sleep,
Look closely at the night sky, and your mother will be sure to wink at your accomplishments.
So if there’s ever a time, when you can’t stomach not seeing the face of your beloved mother,
As your soul shatters under your soft skin and you lose what little strength you still have within you; stand in the mirror, and look up.
She will always lie within you.
And never forget, that Rana was a queen.
A queen, in the game of chess we call life; but the players, they just moved her forward too soon.
But remember, the queen will always be, on the winning side.
And the queen will always protect her platoon.
So when you feel the weight of your ever-so-welcoming heart, sink down into your stomach,
Know; that she is there for you.
And when you become tired of pulling the world’s burdens, let them go,
And we will be here to carry you the rest of the way.
We will carry you forever more,
A family separated only but for a short time.
And this family,
Will always feel for you,
Feel with you, because we are one.
We will move forward,
With hope and strength.
Remember everything you will do
Is because of her
For her.
For Rana.
Until a black cloud of insecure thoughts, and careless actions plagued the world in which we dwell upon.
And Lucifer wrapped it up, in a blanket of sin, to deliver to God as a slap in the face,
But we angels don’t give up so easily.
And even though he tries again and again to bring us, we remain victorious. God is just so glorious.
He leads us down the path of right and wrong, and even though we are tempted by Lucifer we remian strong.
All of us, together as one, bear down through hard times until we have won.
Even though the battle is between good... See More and evil is not yet undone,
We stand here together until we have won.
Won, ended the pain and strife so that all of us can have everlasting life.
We angels don’t give up; not even when our hearts are ripped half way out of our tired bodies.
It just makes it easier for us to love you.
Here on Earth walks a population of miracle workers that give life, and raise seeds, to become the beautiful flowers that bless the ground gravity pulls us to.
Angels walk upon this very Earth, and grow beautiful roses; from the cracks in the pavement.
Angels that grow daisies, in concrete jungles;
We call them Mothers.
They produce fresh air, in a world that will choke you to death, if you breathe it in too fast.
Because of this, Heaven waits for the gardeners of this world.
But Heaven could not wait for this one.
For Rana,
She lives in a penthouse, on the top floor of Heaven, right across the hall from God;
And if you listen closely, you can hear her singing a beautiful song of Cheyenne through the whistling of the trees as they hug the air at sunrise.
Cheyenne, the symphony she plays on the strings of her heart, makes God smile whenever he hears it.
Look closely into the eyes of the gorgeous people on this Earth, and you can see Rana’s beauty, through our inner Heavens.
Hold our hands, and feel the warmth of an amber stone flowing through our veins.
Embrace our chests, and hold onto our backs, as we hold you, until the pain seeps out of your heart onto the ground beneath us.
And I know some of our brothers and sister aren’t as merciful, but if you look pass the pain scraped onto their faces, you can see the God in them too.
Upstairs from an angel with gold wings, and right next door to Martin Luther King, Rana taps her foot to the melody of your voice Cheyenne.
So whenever you start to lose your breath from the rapid flow of tears, just feel the rhythm of your heart beat;
Feel the tap of your mother’s feet.
And every time the sun light shines down on your face,
Just know it’s your mother’s hand caressing your cheek as you go forth into the world.
And as you travel through this world, you’ll do whatever you feel is right.
And as the world silences itself at night; to let tragedy sleep,
Look closely at the night sky, and your mother will be sure to wink at your accomplishments.
So if there’s ever a time, when you can’t stomach not seeing the face of your beloved mother,
As your soul shatters under your soft skin and you lose what little strength you still have within you; stand in the mirror, and look up.
She will always lie within you.
And never forget, that Rana was a queen.
A queen, in the game of chess we call life; but the players, they just moved her forward too soon.
But remember, the queen will always be, on the winning side.
And the queen will always protect her platoon.
So when you feel the weight of your ever-so-welcoming heart, sink down into your stomach,
Know; that she is there for you.
And when you become tired of pulling the world’s burdens, let them go,
And we will be here to carry you the rest of the way.
We will carry you forever more,
A family separated only but for a short time.
And this family,
Will always feel for you,
Feel with you, because we are one.
We will move forward,
With hope and strength.
Remember everything you will do
Is because of her
For her.
For Rana.
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