The Devil himself has a silver lining, just like every cloud does.

He wanders lonely, irrevocably beautiful if not feared for its horns,
As he was cursed to feel, and carry one burden after the other.

His existence envelopes an entirety of chaos,
Forced to contain an immense load of torment,
with which he himself is clouded with paradoxes,
seeking means for balance before he pours it out with thunder.

Sometimes the Sunset skies shove him away,
Independent of its tinged hues and beauty,
Yet when his time comes, he travels through the dark skies,
Scattering the delicate moonlight for those who feel the same way as he does.

IA