Tattooed Angels and Sailor-mouthed Saints...

You tell me fight my demons,

That their claws will cut and scratch;

Their wings will bring destruction

And their voices hiss of death.

You tell me not to worry,

Hate or have any fear,

Your world will be my shelter

From the monsters lurking here.

But you do not know the battles

Or the victories I've won,

Or how I was helped by angels

Unlike your chosen ones

They do not shine or glitter,

Their smiles hint of fangs,

They laugh too loud, sometimes bitter,

Of the outcasts they became.

But their hearts of gold are truer

Than your armies' faithless ones,

And their wings have been my refuge

When I'd been beaten and overcome.

My angels aren't perfect

And they have bruises of their own,

But they saved me from damnation

And I freely give them all my love.