This poem is dedicated to my grandmother. I have a wind chime  and believe that a beautiful demonstration of nature's rhyme is it that tinkles with a gentle breeze. On the contrary, I describe Granny's inscrutable pain on bed parallely. She was an angel to me who was ripped apart with the assumed soothing breeze(pain). I describe how life and death are mutually rhyming- where one is hurled stones at in contrast to where one achieves contentment. I end with how I imagine the shattered angel to glue back into shape and Granny pretends to be by my side as the shattered angel who is back in place. It is difficult to reconcile with her death but am happy that she flew as an angel to heaven rid of pain.