Dusty angel wings,

Peeks out from the other side,

Of the tall, heavily guarded gates,

Fluttering like a lifeless bird,

Blacken and burned to the core,

Reaching out to offer you a way out,

You reach out,

And crush them till you hear no more of the ugly, pathetic cries of mercy,

Oops,

Who says you want out of hell?

#poetry #prose

Stare into my eyes,

And you shall see your future,

For not everything is black and white,

But you need to open yourself up to the light.

Glimmer in it,

Let it shimmer inside of you,

Allow yourself to be free,

Because that is all you need,

A moment with me.

O Sorcerer!

With the frosty heart,

Quench my thirst,

And make me alive again.

O Sorcerer!

With the frolicking eyes,

Savor my quest,

And let me be the savior again.

O Sorcerer!

With the wilting skin,

Give me life,

And you shall punish no more.

O Sorcerer!

Let us rise!

She sprawled around on the floor — arms gracefully meeting her lover’s lap. “My love, are you feeling down?” Each of her words came out with a seductive purr. “Kitty will you feel better,” she let out, as she trailed her fingers delicately over her lover’s lap, and there was a speck of a wicked color of black in her eyes.

“She is so lovely, so innocent, Beckie.” Her lover weaved the words together with the perfect knot. “I can smell how pure she is. So pure. A delicious smell.” She closed her eyes and indulged in the smell. Oh, it was a strong scent of purity. She never tasted blood in the purest form, and she craved, no, itched, for it. “I want her. I want all of them. “I can smell how pure she is. So pure. A delicious smell.” 

Beckie rose up from the floor with the perfect ease and went behind the chair. “Kitty will get her for you. All of them. Even the cute Angel,” she said, rubbing her lover’s back; each of her fingers created the perfect stroke to release built up tension throughout the year. “Ooh, I’ll have with him. He’s so cute! I never had a Prince before.”

She pulled Beckie to her and her red eyes glowed with delight. “Pull his strings. Make him go left and right and back and front. Ooh, so much fun! Ooh, we should keep the vampire hunter alive. I always like her.”

“Kitty will have fun,” she said, “so much fun.”

They laughed into the morning — a song echoing in the distance; it was time for the walls to be splashed with that lovely red shade. 

She moves in the shadows,

whispering to the devil,

of the darkest deeds,

in the cold and harsh night.

The devil refuses to hear more;

the hollowness never moving away from his eyes.

She begs and pleads,

licking her raw wounds,

but the devil still refuses.

She looks at the devil,

sees the light flickering around in his eyes,

sees the darkness waning away,

and understands,

he isn’t the devil,

that writes sins,

but he is her father.

And she dances in the shadows,

bringing the light back in,

with her father.