angelic                                                            devil 

holy                                                                hellish

adorned in white                                           adorned in black

  purified                                                     stained 

and freshly bathed in holy water                   and freshly bathed in boiling blood 

sun kissed by heavens rays                             burned by hades triton

wrapped in owl wings                                   wrapped in the wings of bat 

freshly frosted in snow                                    freshly frosted with remains of the                                                                                      crematorium

halo                                                                 horns from the bones of an ox

of white lillies                                              

enlaced with strings of gold                               enlaced with his veins

                                                                         his name is hades

her name is persephone   

there´s something beautiful about hell and heaven 

hell makes heaven beautiful 

heaven makes hell inxoticating 

Eyes half closed with a sparkling glow,

Mouth opened to show a glistening smile 

Transparent skin and dress of heavenly style,

Flowing rainbow hair and a beautiful flare that was beyond compare 

       A Angel named Rachel

Tall, very dark, and a handsome Angel!

He can meet you on any level

Just how I like 'em! He's so fine

Like a good French wine!

His skin so smooth,

And ya know what he's gonna do

He makes all the girls hot!

He gonna give 'em what they ain't got

Eyes that comfort your soul

Lips that can kiss you whole

A tongue that can make ya holler

Hands that can caress ya all over!

He got a magic wand y'all!

The kind that grants a girls fantasies y'all!

And when the mornin comes y'all

He never leaves you wanting more, y'all.

He's a god, a sexy god!

An Angel in bed,

HALLELUJAH!

She told me she was eighty-four and had been homeless for the past seventeen years as she helped me push my car. A part of me wanted to pause and look at her, but I knew that if I did, my car would crush her. I hadn't asked for her help. She just saw my car break down, put down her knitting, and helped me push. As we pushed, she explained her life, but she wasn't a typical old geezer blabbing about her grandchildren. She called herself Maryam and told me she immigrated to the US when she was forty-three with her only child, eleven at the time. They were poor, but never too poor to give to people poorer. When she told me about her house, I asked why she didn't live there.

"A family with six children live there now. I'm old. I'd just die there anyway."

Every. Single. Freaking. Day. Every day I choose to get up. Every day I put down the blade and picked up a pen. Every day I choose to speak up. Every day I don't yell at you for treating me like trash. Every day I put on my smile and don't take it off until I climb into bed. Every day I want to die but I tell myself no. Every day I fight back. Every day I win. Every day I choose life. Every day I am my own angel, because no one else is coming to save me anytime soon.

Horns, you say?

A forked tongue, you say?

A forked tail, skin of red or black, you say?

Or is that reddish-black or blackish-red?

No matter...

You see, the problem with demons is that they

masquerade as angels,

whispering in your ear, making bad seem so so good

and making good seem so so bad.

Describe a demon, you say?

It's that little voice. Yes, you know the one.

A halo, you say?

A bright white aura, you say?

Hair of supernatural gold, wings that blind, you say?

Or is that hair that blinds and wings of gold?

No matter...

You see, the thing about angels is that they can look

just.like.that.person.right.behind.you,

the one urging you to do some good deed,

the one urging you to help someone in need.

Describe an angel, you say?

It's that little voice. Yes, you know the one.

Demon? Angel?

Can one really say?

In the almost darkness,

From the vaults of heaven,

Lights glisten. I listen,

Pressing ears to the void,

I can hear a child cry,

Scattered somewhere inside,

Abstracted out of sight,

It's Slight but thundering.

The loudest noise unheard.

Blurred vision stirs my soul

Forcing me to look deep,

Soft hands rub away sleep,

Letting the light flood in.

Bracing the cheval glass,

An angel hides away,

Reflected from within.

She is a simple soul,

Pure.

She is a sliver of light,

that brightens an entire room.

She is love,

so soft and gentle,

like a feather caressing your cheek.

She is love,

so powerful and true,

you will never feel alone again.

She is a smile,

that spreads at the very thought of her.

She is acceptance and forgiveness.

She is a warmth that touches every cell.

She is peace, joy and tranquility.

She is the unexpected, serendipity, destiny.

She is flawed perfection.

She is absolute.

She is the gift I received ,and gave, all at once.

She is an angel. She is yours.

She is my child.