‘Be careful of the Devils’ they caution with shaking hands and fevered eyes
But what of the Angels
With their slick smiles
And golden wings

Gabriel stands alone in the ruins of a forgotten garden,
The ancient word for Paradise clenched in his fist,
Impassive eyes watching the rest of the world
Which has seemed to forgotten,
That it was his sword of flame
That drove our ancestors out with seared flesh,
Consigning us to our cage of sorrow and sin.

Michael is resplendent in his armour of stars,
“One who is like God”, we call him
Our own sense of irony lost on us.
It was his strength that delivered us from Lucifer himself.
No one remembers
That the Morning Star was once an angel too,
Who shone just as bright:
Michael’s own beloved comrade,
Who feared the earth and flames.
We punish Lucifer for wanting to be like God,
To follow his soldier of a kin.
But what about the fact that Michael looked his brother in the eye,
Snapped his wings,
And condemned him to fire
As he fell?

Oh, beautiful Raphael,
Whose time on earth tainted his angel flesh,
Did they really stand a chance against you
When you burned so brightly in the dark?
Who could resist an angel?
What of the daughters you took to your bed,
Leaving them nothing but a handful of feathers in the morning,
Midnight promises bitter ash in their mouths,
Something in them broken beyond repair,
Brought about by the touch of a being whose hands were made to heal.

And the countless others,
Whose names have been lost in time and tongues,
Who cut us down in the name of God,
Arrows loosed from their fingers,
Uncaring of where they fell.
Who atones for the sins against those mortals
With too keen of eyes
Catching sight of so terrible a glory,
That the images of halos haunt them even in purgatory.
'Be careful of the Devils’, yes, that much is true.
But many people forget to tell you,
‘Be careful of the Angels’, too.