Angels Masquerading

When one lives in a den of demons,
Why is there an expectation...
To hear angelic voices?
Or believe those limping from wounds,
Are preparing for marathon races.

Once a healing begins,
And the demons have been identified...
Why are there those who still lie to themselves,
That the ones baring their fangs,
And wearing sheepskin in disguise...
Are really angels masquerading their lives?

A den of demons...
IS,
A den of demons!
Whether visiting or observing.
Or condoning it...
As a place to call home.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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