Well
A foul creature rummaged the mud.
No sunlight shone
down the bottom of the well.
Ragged corpses and mocking skeletons
His only companions.
Jagged teeth and broken nails
scratched the stone walls.
“I want out!”
The echo drowned his roar.
One last breath
and all would fade away.
Beyond closed eyes
a spark of light – an angel
Four wings on each side
a spider from heaven.
Come
He took her hand.
The two faded away.
– F H Hakansson
F. H. Hakansson 
I don’t really know what this is about, but I like to think that the wall, without a drop of sunlight, is depression, and that the angel is death.
The angel is incidentally death – though I originally planned the angel to simply be a human being, someone who loves the creature, and it is simply a rebirth from “depression.” Now I am not sure. It is what my readers want it to be 🙂
Oh, I so do love a happy ending. 🙂