Masquerade wings

Poem

Late at night he sows his wings on
Only the trained eye detects
Textures of synthetic feathers 
Tickle this devil’s arms, they don’t belong
Longing to be held 
Elders’ memories slip up like a thread
from the scriptures 

He arrives in the pretence
That he’ll go away again 
A threat more than a promise 
Ensued by no angels of light
This charade where dark forces live and
rivals are eliminated 
change their minds with a masquerade 

Photo by Nick Andréka on Unsplash

I have got a podcast episode called Hold of Darkness for my paid subscribers here: https://blingnotbling.substack.com/p/hold-of-darkness?r=ppxv4