they shine like angels fallen from above to tempt the eyes of frail men
broken trail of wingless years eyes betray a lonely heart and hope to make it full at last
they long like sirens calling from afar to turn a foot by fatal lyre
faithless fickle hearts of men leave voids unfilled by unshed tears and ache to wipe the fears away
they lay like harlots waxed and oiled primped and preened to light the hearts of fallen men and tempted, turned, take them away
to darkness
fill the longing, close the void break the long and hard divide but moments pass the deed is done and into stupor all undone the cracked and broken flee
so we sit like demons teeth spread wide
with a halo on the jaws of hell
I hope this doesn't come across as a mysogynist poem, because it's not. In many ways, we can all be angel-demons to each other, whether a man or a woman. But the heart of this poem is to expose the angel-demon of lust and ****** fantasy by tracing the path of temptation.