Humans hang the antlers of the deer they kill.
Angels keep the horns of the demons.
And us demons?
We keep the wings,
Those beautiful wings
We wish were our own
Hung as trophies
On out walls
Of hell
Used to brag,
When we all know
We would give anything
To be in their place
So take my horns
Before I'm commanded
To take those wings
That I can't use
