I live with two angels, the epitome of naughty and nice.
One is my guardian,
the messenger of Divine Grace.
He is strict and straight and true.
Nothing escapes his notice, my conscience within his sphere.
He breaks bad habits, pushing me to achieve.
The Other, my Fallen advocate,
lieutenant of the Greatly Accursed.
My angels fight and bicker and force me to decide.
No matter what I choose, one is left unsatisfied.
My angels are not like cartoons.
They don’t stand on my shoulders and they don’t look a thing like me.
They just want me to be happy.
But is it happiness or fancy?
With the path I wish to take they offer me free advice.
One cautions to stay, the other loves to stray.
To wander like a pilgrim, will my desires be mine alone?
Have I been fooled by the fallen or am I fooling my guardian?
My guardian so wise, sweet and guiding,
the Fallen is sweet too, honeyed words oozing with temptation.
I know they tally their scores of who I listen to more,
it’s like a mini-championship, the winner brings home my soul.
I know my every decision affects their score, for the grand final on Judgement day,
to bliss or condemnation,
Winner takes all.