All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Lucifer: Fallen Bringer and Azrael: Rejected Taker
Lucifer: Fallen Bringer
His body is perfect,
Soft, silk skin smooth, without a blemish,
Beaten silver, covered his bare chest, arms and legs,
Carrying their own light,
Drawing my eyes with its burning beauty.
Golden locks tumble along
The bare shoulders,
Fall leaves scattered on the moon,
Their soft curls whispering of wealth,
Easing toneless thoughts into my heart.
His smile is sensual,
The slight turn of his mouth,
Canoe like, floating on that silver lake,
Parting slightly, unspoken words tickle my neck,
Tracing every nerve with a golden intensity.
But the eyes,
Stared gold-white,
No black iris to add fear,
But the feeling-less, blank stare,
Gripped my heart, icy fingers squeezed,
I gasped,
And fell towards the unmoving
Liquid ivory pools.
Azrael: Rejected Taker
Slate-skin covered his unmoving body,
The careful grace of a Roman statue,
Thin as parchment,
Hidden beneath charcoal fabrics,
Shy, regretful, shadows protecting.
Curtains of black thread
Cover his face,
Not greasy with blackened blood,
But shining with nervous sweat,
The gleam pitiful, not foreboding.
The smile like a wraith,
Grey-blue lips curled,
Hesitant, their color not of fury and storm,
But of fearful hope,
Unwilling to see the stricken faces
Of the dead.
But his eyes,
Charcoal black,
Gleaming, shining with tireless hope,
Drawn from moonlight,
No trace of mal-intent,
Twin blackened pools called me,
The onyx stones offering
A cool release.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 1 comment.