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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2166385
Rated: E · Poetry · Occult · #2166385
A poem about demons I have known
She walked in the sun,
Head held high,
Skirts swishing,
Around her feet,
Coming undone.
She saw him standing there.
His skin was charcoal black,
And he was the devil,
He was the devil,
He was the devil.

She sauntered in the moonlight,
Naked by the fire,
Feet caked with mud,
Absent of desire.
That's when she met him.
His skin was white like death,
And he was the devil,
He was the devil,
He was the devil.

She danced in the twilight,
When the sky is painted with vibrant color,
Bold and bright,
Her corset laced tight,
Smile fading,
When she spotted him,
Hiding in the corner of her eye.
His skin was caramel,
Dripping with sweat,
And he was the devil,
He was the devil,
He was the devil.

She died in his arms,
Beautiful in crimson.
His eyes were almond slits,
Drinking in her essence.
His skin was high yellow,
And he was the devil,
He was the devil,
He was the devil.
© Copyright 2018 Miss Cellar Door (misscellardoor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2166385