deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Little Devil
At glance She is an Angel,
Beautiful and bright as Day.
But if you look inside, she says,
That little Angel fades away.
She's convinced She is the voice,
That whispers songs of Wickedness,
And anyone that listens
falls from Grace with such a quickness.
And If what She says is true,
then on Her list I'm number one.
For none have listened with such passion,
with such interest, as I have done.
None have seen the light that shines,
upon Her when She's not aware.
As words flow freely and abound
Her Spell spills out into the air.
If She truely be a Devil,
And if I'm under Her Spell,
Then I welcome possession,
For she is my Beautiful Hell.
She has always been right there,
guiding me from by my side.
But know the choice was always mine,
To be inside her hand, confined.
Cause She's my little Devil,
and Her Fire burns like Hell.
But, I admit, I love the burn,
In fact, it's how I fell.
For so long I held on to Grace,
and what I felt was right.
But that left me empty inside,
with no real grasp on Love or Life.
Then I met that Angel,
whom I loved once I caught sight,
ever so persuasive, and
Beautiful as the cold, dark Night.
She took me in Her great embrace,
She even offered me Her hand.
Thats when I gave my Soul to Her,
and made the choice to be condemned.
Eternity inside Her Flames,
to me it's more a Paradise.
I, too am Wicked, just like Her,
for Devils catch the Devils eyes.
She's my little Devil,
one who's touched my darkened Heart.
And if She truely is so vile,
then I'll let Her tear my World apart.
Cause I love Her in Her every way,
as Wicked as She think them be.
And if She is to be ever so Wicked,
Then I'd Love it if She'd be to me,
That little Devil torturing my Soul, so Devilishly.
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