Evil Angel, Fly 'Way From Me

Whispered dear, pluck'd from your balmy summer.

Deceived by the stolen verse of Israfel,

That crooned your heart's dark walls asunder—

torn from your silver crib by He Who Fell.

Thy mother moaned and groaned, "Lilith Abi!"

as you stumbled through the pulsing Lab'rinth,

Led by his soft speech uttering of safety,

and bound by his blue, black eyes of past myth.

Yet, to no gain—your mother's pleas tamed.

He fix'd you in the h'vens so all may see,

His lust trophy of your dreams he maimed.

Never now from the night skies shall you flee.

So shall you turn crimson with a lost yell,

Curse Eros, known as, your angel: Azrael.

Taylor Scott