Demon

Snarling, spittle-foamed fangs and maroon to scarlet flashing eyes,
Somehow familiar, so unfriendly,  I should have felt surprise,
Flashing flames from mahogany to blazing sunset, leering,
But I knew the face in detail, angry, hate filled, now sneering,
With no constructive purpose, only empowered to destroy:
Misguide my eyes, claws point up flaws, since I was a little boy.

I stared into the face of pure malevolent wickedness;
All at the same time, frightened, curious, cowardly, fearless,
It whispered in my ear, “Take it!  Try it!  Do it!  Do it NOW!”
I might have put up resistance if I only knew how.
Thoughtless, habits once again took me through familiar motions.
How could I feel right and wrong at the same time, both deep oceans?

Guilt and want, yes and no, there is supposed to be an escape,
If there is, I haven’t found it while evil is taking shape,
Then, when I have done what I have done, I am left with the guilt,
That hated face, still there, laughing at remorseful tears I’ve spilt-
Demon director, without the grace to hide behind a door,
Staring at me, waiting to tempt again, close as my mirror.

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