Their intentions are scribbled in bathroom stalls and the heart of God.
Their cars are chariots for the spirit,
their feet carry them to and fro on the winds of God's will.
Those around them do not know,
but among them walk the living dead.
Their voices sound like voices
but if you are an angel they sounds like symphonies.
Their eyes are green and blue and brown
and all of the regular colors,
but when they close them they see bright white
light and colors that man has not yet named.
They listen to things that no one can hear
and do things when called to action by individuals
who are not seen that reside in places never visited.
These are the people who keep me from falling into pits.
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