Dance with the Fiend

Dance with the Fiend by midnight’s sun

His talon’d fingers making blood run

His fiery hooves treading by thy feet

Flames erupting turn frost to sleet

His black wings huge, stretching wide

Black and majestic; this devil at thy side.

Feel not the flame that burns the rest

Merely bask in the warmth within thy breast.

Feel not the horns upon his head

This angel’s halo is thorn’d instead.

Care not for the tail that whips below

No hate arises, a mere love doth grow.

At a kiss from thy lips

the touch of thy hips

The fire does fade

a mere spark is made.