Mr. Crowley...

Mr. Crowley....I wrote this after listening to Ozzy's Mr. Crowley (not that its based off it lol) Enjoy!

Mr. Crowley

He was the enigmatic, Satanic, collective epitome of mankind.
He was debonaire, however distinctly demonic; his short black hair was greased back off of his forehead; a few lone strands hung on down on either side of his face like misplaced curtains.
His eyes were of a stark and faded blue, his skin as pale and white as newfallen snow, however not nearly as pure.
His clothing was stark, austere, surgical: a dark suit, white shirt and burgundy tie, black brogues.
His face was gaunt and stretched, cheekbones high, nose thin and chin pointed.
Though he could have been any age, fifteen or fifty-five, no facial hair took root in his pale cheeks.
He was silent all the time, and this coupled with his appearance made him seem dead.
Dead not only in the way that he looked but also in spirit, for those pale eyes seemed to hold all the haunting dark knowledge, all the sorrow and pain of the world.