@farshad-mahmoodi
In the middle of this crowd, an angel stands with her head lowered, not out of pride, but from the exhaustion of being unseen. Her wings are open, yet we keep our eyes fixed on our own paths. We pass by because a miracle, in our minds, must be loud and radiant, not silent and wounded. We do not love angels while they are alive, while they can still demand something human from us. We canonize them after they are gone, when they no longer threaten our indifference. The tragedy is not their death; the tragedy is that every day we walk past a savior and deliberately refuse to look up.