Angel Of Demise

She was nine steps into the building and she heard bells ringing. She was three feet from the fire and she  heard bells ringing. When they told her to turn around she heard the bells ringing. As they screamed for her to run away, she heard those angelic bells ringing.
I swear, every day after, one more bell was ringing. And she saw nothing but a spotlight, and she was whispering to tree branches, and she heard nothing else at all. Just the trinkle of a pretty million bells singing her a symphony.  She noticed not the flooding, or the wind that tore through streets. She just listened to those bells  and ignored the world around her, and followed that gleaming spotlight, and rescued whomever she made it to in time.
When the floods came that summer, she wasn’t the one shouting, but she was the one doing the most good. She just almost shut her eyes and listened to those bells, and just when everyone knew she lost it she reached her target and away they flew. Just another bell to sing. And just when her mouth fell open, and just when everyone stopped to hear, she reached another captive and they took flight. Just another seat to fill.
I swear she didn’t look like havoc being released over the world. And she didn’t feel like panic grinding souls into the ground. She didn’t dance across the floor like she was searching for someone with the potential for tragedy. Honestly, to me she looked like hope. Like the light she saw lead somewhere farther than next door. Like those silly, little, mesmerizing bells of hers sang a song sung for victory. But, to me hope looked a little jaded I suppose. Like suppose to me making it out just looked daunting. And bells sounded so much sweeter when they rang out defeat.
I swear to the sun that raised her and the moon that calls her home, when the night collapses down on her all she hears is bells. And all she sees is victory. And she doesn’t feel a thing, because destruction doesn’t have a heartbeat. And the people she misses don’t symbolize a loss, just the need to postpone.
I swear to the heavens that claim her, she knew from the start that her job was a vapor. And before she finished the bells could stop. And before she reached her destination, it could all be over. Like the flood that brought the world to it’s knees was her moment to shine and she was only following. And she knew without that spotlight…and she knew without those bells, she never would have made leaving home look so good. And she never would have convinced the trapped to follow.
But, I swear to the end they faced, she made it look beautiful. Heroic even. She made it look like a bell of your own. Like, just give me your heartbeat, and this is yours to hold. And before you could consider, you were hearing the ring of enchantment and destiny. Cause you could end up no where else but where that ring would go.
I swear to the God she served, she had no choice but to follow. But he knew how to make it look good. And he knew how it would sound. And he knew how to dress up an eternity. And all she heard was bells.