do they have regrets?

 Terror seizes me to find him here

 a foreboding shadow

cocooned in his own feathers

slicked in the oils of darkest treachery

more charred than coal in the flames of hell;

I brace for the sharpest of fangs

and slits of bloodshot eyes to bare

I dread the beast horns

and the lashing whip of a tail

but as those wings unfold, I only see

doleful eyes despairing an innocence lost

utterly forgotten and irredeemable

the last glints of goodness busting away

leaving but madness in his self-corrupted soul

now a memento of sins and sufferings due

he is nothing but a being who desires

a dreamer

a rebel

imperfect.