The Devil took on the shape
Of a city crow.
You should have seen him
Manouver through the streets
On the warm gusts of wind.
Beak silver, feet golden,
Wings as wide as the smile
Of a demon's fresh from
Heaven's grasp.
He turned his head, exposing
An eye; a window to his lack
Of soul, as black as the center of
Nothing. Fresh wounds from
Needles in the arm of a girl
On the pavement below
Were sunsets and rainbows
To him; he croaked with the
Voice of a hundred crying mothers:
Your opened veins are my gates.
Syringe keys and ****** handles.
No single sin is anything
Without the eye that judges it.
Behold: Within the skies above
Is only air, no godly love.
No devil neither rests beneath,
As blade within an earthly sheath.
Behind this blackness you will find
The consciousness of Humankind.
The crow looked up and lifted off
With a giant rustling flap.
Then, mid-air, changed into a dove
Of summer-cloud white; glided above the roof
Tops; became one with the sunlight
That stroked itself across the face
Of the girl in the street.
She looked up at a passing
Child. One that didn't cringe at the look
Of her weary, weathered features, but smiled
As if knowing her.
I swore I could see the chemical veil lift
From her eyes.
Who needs gods or devils, I thought.
*They're only devided by heart.