The Devil is Beautiful

The Devil is real.
Not a cartoon villain in fireproof red,
but a vision—
sharp-jawed, soft-voiced,
draped in charm like a velvet noose. He doesn't slither. He smiles.
He holds doors open
and offers second chances
like poisoned wine
in a crystal glass.

You wouldn’t run from him.
You’d follow.
Because once,
he sang in the throne room—
light bursting from his lips,
the favorite son,
the morning star.

And when he fell,
he didn’t lose beauty.
He weaponized it.

Now he sells mirrors
that never show the rot.
Whispers worthlessness
in a lover’s cadence.
Builds kingdoms
on the backs of beggars
and calls it justice.

Yes,
the Devil is real.
And you won’t see the horns
until it’s too late.
You’ll only see the halo
he stole on his way down.