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Ileana Amara Apr 2020
The Devil wears a condescending Crown of Aristocracy.

Behind the beauty of the aristocracy he led,
and sometimes romantic and eventful lives he savored,
lies a darker story: a legacy of deception, violence and unrepentant greed.

An aristocrat whose ground are his virtues and talents and pain,
Pouring one mischievous ingredient after the other,
All for a play of exploitation and influence,
The Devil has passion, but barely a soul, thus an erroneous aristocracy he rules over.

He was beautiful and ******;
Blemished in earthly pleasures and loss of his prodigious being,
The Devil lacked emotion and acted upon logic until he lost his heart,
His crown was adorned with half lamentation, half echoes of his past, out of dark menaces.

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
Does a Devil ever calm down or it drowns in Iniquity as calm in the chaos?

A paradox it is, for a devil to pet its demons' wickedness,
Yet desires to find calm in the chaos, like heaven in hell.

Countless of unfathomed thoughts lay before me;
Would the Devil's predilection of calm be to reign in power,
or to be finally loved even after he unmask his unforgiving past?
Maybe the Devil tried to unriddle calm just like most humans do.

He would live in a doomed pit where regrets are frozen on loop,
Playing and wreaking havoc before deserving sinners,
To disguise its misery as death grip was self-destruction,
To forget love and vulnerability, was to forget calm and forget to have ever truly lived at all.

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
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
Lake Apr 2020
A part of me hopes that,
when I go meet him,
the devil will also be a too-much boy.

When he kisses me,
sickly sweet,
too hot, too much spiced honey tongue,
he’ll bite my lip on the first pass
and I’ll bite back.
A little note on being "too gay" for the rest of my long, queer life.
Myka Apr 2020
xvi
Sun and moon, day and night,
Light and dark, good and evil.
They say God created everything
for a reason,
so what of the Devil?

I've heard stories,
of witches and werewolves.
But the Devil,
they say he walks among us,
living in the shadows,
and speaking in whispers.

They say God created everything
for a reason,
that He made man in His image,
so why did He put the Devil in me?
This is for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The Man Without Fear.
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
Four centuries of cursed existence, the Devil awaits to burn itself to death and be reborn from its ashes.

A hundred-fold of memories and relentless lifetimes,
Nothing is too beautiful in immortality unless one takes a break of Death and resurrect itself.

Decades of power, punishment, and misery,
The Devil soars above humanity, luring them into vices
His own self-consciousness could feed the approach of Death,
while the Devil himself starves for something he is not.

The Devil wove a nest of memories and resined it before winter,
He was life on earth, for all the demons escaped hell for it
The Devil was then the predecessor whom a woman loved,
Yet he burned himself and the memories to ashes, in exchange to recreate himself.

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
With months of sailing on a sea of deceit, the Temptress accompanied a Pirate down to an abyss of the dark.

A Temptress who became the temptress and lured itself to heal the wounded eye of a Pirate,
who lost its compass and itself because of love.

"We're sailing for gold and more gold, until we run out of memory chests to place them to," said the Pirate
Falling to its words and deceitful half-patched eye, "All pleasures last so long as we venture what is ahead of us and not look back."
The seagulls squawked, "Abandon the heartless pirate,
Its own heart has long been stolen and never retrieved,

Gold and more gold are to cover up the paths that does only lead
To the Pirate's unrequited love quest, a lasting and soothing resort,
It seeks to feel belong and loved, even made a vow to change henceforth,
It's an endless cruise, down to the abyss of dark
Adrift with a Pirate who had nothing to lose, and a Temptress in pain who may have wished to disembark."

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
Befriend a devil, it would be the unlikely yet best cupcake in your pantry of memories.

Cupcakes are made from scratch, anything that comes in convenient
A devil may be, but they are made from power, vices, and flaws,
and they come in convenient too when you let your demons offer it with a cup of coffee.

A pantry of memories would be boring if you prefer it in monochrome,
Angels with pretentious halos, or Humans with humanity
but then they all left anyway, like how icings are scrumptious
but the cake batter lack one essential ingredient or two.

The devil's cupcake icing would be in dark hues, bittersweet but real
It would have probably lived itself in multiple attempts at life,
Drowning in vices, manipulating people, scarred of flaws, but then again real
Befriend and touch a devil's heart like you would judge the cupcake completely based on the cake itself..

If it is tamed, know that a devil wore power to mask its pains,
If it isn't, feel free to set aside such, along with the Heartless Creatures that grow horns for themselves.

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
Everything we love slips like water.

Love is a fraud, anything that causes unpredictable distortions,
it takes no definite form nor extent, and it slips in our hands no matter how tight we hold onto it.

Like cold water against our bare hands:
it is soothing as if something we want to last the sensation of,
Like the beach waves washing over our feet:
it is euphoric and unforgettable as if we were both meant to find solace in the same places.

Like water that quenches our thirsty souls' dehydration:
it fills up the gaps in our bare beings with something better we never thought we could ever have before,
Like water as the universal solvent:
we either mix and complement each other, or dissolve the good parts left of us when we feel pain.

IA
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