Damien angel

Is there seated a Damien angel?
About my shoulders or nape, contour.
Must he be so petulantly-pushy?
As to sadly knock me to the floor
Will he be my only advocate?
My only abacus... here on earth!
Such is an albatross’s worth
-less good-luck, curse!
My deaths dearth is not to mitigate
Nor is it to question or to coerce
Life was sent to pass each devilish task
Not to discover answers that need not be—ask.
But yet I question is there a Damien angel?
Else if not why has my life been so rueful
So damned trodden-on so fearfully fateful.