he walks with white angel wings

his eyes full of misery and dead darlings

he talks about death which is full of meanings

and his path destruction it only burns and brings

he has a head that bears horns

he is a rose full of pretty thorns

the darkness he is part of and adorns

all the ugly secrets he silently mourns

and despite the scars and flaws

I learn to see him like an ice that begins to thaw

he is an ethereal being full of marvels and awe

of the world's beautiful wonders and its frauds

he is not prince charming

nor a knight with armor bedazzling

but he is a nightmare unsatisfying

and his eyes is what blood has been prying