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.
