I am a Devil
Cloaked in a simple skin
Thin fabric hiding a mind made of wrath
Pierce it if you dare, unleash the dark
Take a glimpse and run, boy, run
See the crimson in my pale flesh?
See the horns hidden in my dark hair?
See that smile laughing at the dead?
Giggle at their pain
Cackle at their despair
Grin at that which delights the twisted
I am a Devil!
My crimson flesh burns away the humanity
Once resided in me, now but a whisp
A desperate, fleeting thing
I brush away with a twitch of my lips
A smile you find a weapon of seduction
A tool in the hands of a demon, a whore
A girl, a beast, a boy, a mellow monster
I am a Devil!
My crimson skin eats away the personable facade
You crave the peaceful society even as I burn it down
Pull it apart brick by brick with my blood-soaked hands
Set the ashes on fire and sing a gleeful tune
Stack bodies like bricks
Rebuild the world in its image
Peaceful streets now silent in the sweet hand of death
I am a Devil!
The cloak that billows in my wake
Symbol once of hope, now of despair
Grass withers at the feet you kiss
If I gave you any thought
Perhaps I'd step on you too
What is a man to a god?
I cannot grasp at why one would make man
But I find pleasure in finishing them
Watching them quiver and shake
It brings a smile to my venomous lips
I am a Devil!
Not a creature of hate, no
Hate is an emotion, love is an emotion
Baby, monsters don't feel
My soft skin is for touching dammed men
My lips are a poison kiss
My hands brush lightly on ancient scars
My eyes alone could kill
But it's the mind you want to avoid, beautiful boy
All wretched things come from somewhere
All unspeakable deeds are done by someone
And I am a creature of nightmare
Yet you call the soul of Satan an angel
Surely a sweet face could do no harm
Put the gun in my pale hand
Never imagine I'd paint it crimson
With the hearts of a thousand men
You cannot see the beast I can be
Even as I imagine a nightmare
A gift to destroy only you
(27 September 2015)
YOU ARE READING
An Aged, Bitter Collection of Poetry, Prose, & Papers
PoesíaThere once was a sad girl, not that long ago, in a kingdom not so far away. Perhaps a glance into her somber scribbles might help you on your quest to scribble for yourself.