Where Demons Dress as Angels

A testimony to the monsters we hold secret inside us all.

I would bear each laceration before it could take residence upon your soul.

Burn every infirmity to ash so

you could be awakened to the wildfire I see,

that I feel,

and imperfections would be beautiful to me.

You said you were not as good as you would like to be,

and you regretted the discoloration of your reflection.

You feel like Hell.

Pronounced remorse to the poison of existence.

I would pave Hell with energy,

judged by your countenance.

I assure you,

the demons residing in the arch of your soul

are robed in the light of angels.

"They are not true angels."

Once more, 

how do you know?

Distinguish the fallen seraph from a messenger of the eternal throne.

Between guide and seducer.

I lay down with good intentions,

being seduced with the most beautiful message in the world.

I am a commonplace sinner.

Pressing my lips against the neck of fair devils,

contrition plays nothing on my heart.

Remorse is the poison of life.

Love is the cure.

"It will sting, 

the taste will be bitter."

Once again,

how do you have such precision when love itself

has no eyes to see.

I must admit even a demon,

gowned in honesty,

when it asks entrance to my heart.

I would permit every demon you have to tell me their story,

listen while they speak,

and hold no scorn of their indiscretion.

Smile with sympathy.

Smile again at the mystery of you,

even you are unacquainted with.

If only I could read in your eyes 

as much as I could listen to the pattern of your breathing,

I would be quick to master the language of angels,

trapped in a world of demons.

So I could tell you in every way,

just how beautiful you look,

with every one of your demons dressed as angels.

Reviews

[Devons]

"how do you have such precision when love itself
has no eyes to see."
This is a great poem, and if there were less selfish and vain people here it would be read by many others. The purpose of this haven of writing is, however, unfortunately thoroughly ignored or misinterpreted by most (and many of them are also fine writers, shamefully).
There is an easy balance of sagacity and feeling in the sentiment of this piece, and it possesses power of real meaning. It's not merely a musing, it carries a genuine message about humanity and an unmistakable philosophical integrity. So many people cannot escape a feeble tendency to be consumed by the subject of love when it comes to expressing themselves in poetic language, and in fact I believe that for most of them it is the only reason they began writing at all - but this poem transcends all that one-dimensional inanity and creates truth through art; and communicates universally and comprehensively.
The exposition of language and sense of clarity in this writing is excellent. It is beautiful.