Author’s Invocation
In every confessional verse, I trespass across sacred lines—
naming darkness holy, letting grace bruise.
What follows is not salvation, nor surrender—
but something stranger, softer, and far more true:
love that neither redeems nor condemns,
only witnesses.
Luminescence & Shadow
A Forbidden Litany
Poetry by Rowan Evans
Intro:
In the Mouth of the Divine and the Damned
In every hymn of light, a shadow hums beneath the breath.
In every curse of darkness, a spark strains to survive.
We are children of paradox: the angel who aches for midnight,
the demon who dares to thirst for dawn.
This is our confession—carved in ash and grace,
a love letter scrawled across ruin and reverence.
I. Angel’s Soliloquy
Sanctified Ache
I dwell where seraphs weave gold into dawn,
where gardens shimmer with dew spun from prayer,
where hymns rise like incense—and still, my chest feels hollow.
Even beneath these alabaster wings,
something restless coils in silence:
a hunger no choir can soothe,
no benediction can quiet.
By moonlight, I trace the ivory spires
and wonder what waits beyond the gates—
what secret burns in that forbidden dusk.
In the mirror of heaven, I see my own doubt:
halo flickering, longing trembling like an unspoken psalm.
I close my eyes to holy light—
and all I see is a silhouette crowned in midnight flame.
II. Demon’s Soliloquy
Hallowed Hunger
I haunt cathedrals built of bone and broken vows,
where soot clings to every breath, and ruin is scripture.
Wings black as regret, heart scorched by eternity—
I was forged for destruction, baptized in shadow.
Yet even in this cursed marrow,
I taste the ghost of something gentler:
a warmth that coils between rage and ruin,
a light I dare not name.
In every ember, I see her face—
untouched by ash, yet carrying a sorrow
I know in my marrow.
Her grace calls to my monstrosity—
not to cleanse it, but to cradle it.
I was taught to scorn the heavens—
but my darkness bends toward her,
like dusk leaning into dawn.
III. First Meeting
Eclipse of Flesh and Faith
[Angel]
I stepped past paradise and felt the veil break.
Breath caught in my throat—
she stood there, wreathed in night,
every scar a prayer unanswered.
Her gaze stripped me bare of sanctity;
my wings trembled, not from fear—
but from recognition.
[Demon]
I watched light cross the threshold,
a vision I never dared summon.
She glowed like promise, yet her eyes were raw,
haunted by the same hunger that gnawed my ribcage.
For a heartbeat, shadow and radiance touched—
our pulses discordant, yet symphonic.
[Together]
We spoke not in words, but in exhales:
two broken altars bending toward each other,
drawn by the gravity of what should never be.
IV. Dual Longing
Benediction of Ache
[Angel]
In the hush of dawn, I whisper prayers
not to my God—but to her absence.
Her shadow stains every hymn;
her fire warms the marrow of my doubt.
Even grace tastes like ashes now;
holiness feels hollow without her silhouette beside me.
[Demon]
In the abyss, her memory flickers like dying light.
I claw at stone, find only emptiness.
Every scream turns to a plea: let me see her once more.
The weight of my damnation sharpens the ache—
yet still, I cherish it: it means she touched me.
[Together]
Apart, yet bound by ache,
our confessions echo through realms unseen.
Even the distance becomes devotion.
V. Fall & Rise
Communion of Ruin and Reverence
[Angel]
When heaven cast me out—wings singed to bone—
I fell; yet my heart soared toward her.
In ruin, I found my truest prayer:
her name, whispered in fevered breath.
[Demon]
When she fell, the abyss trembled.
I caught her—not to save, but to share the fall.
Together, we knelt in shadow,
two exiles crowned in each other’s devotion.
[Together]
We kissed with bloodied lips,
made holy what was once forbidden.
She stained my darkness with grace;
I inked her light with shadow.
In our union, dawn and dusk entwined—
not to destroy, but to create a new dusk:
a twilight where even angels and demons
may confess love without shame.
Outro:
The Gospel of Contradiction
Call it blasphemy, call it salvation—
but know this:
our scars became scripture; our fall became our rising.
For in each other’s arms,
light loved darkness without wanting to change it,
and shadow loved light without wanting to dim it.
And somewhere beyond paradise and perdition,
our confessions still burn—
an eternal psalm of luminescence and shadow.
Closing Note
In the end, this was never meant to be read as doctrine,
but as devotion: a testament to what blooms in shadow,
what aches in light, and what love dares to name holy
even when the world would call it heresy.
May it find you—whether angel, demon, or something beautifully in between—
and remind you: your confessions, too, are worthy of ink and flame.
🔗 You may also like…
13 Psalms of Falling
The Bite & Eternal Thirst
Liturgies of Ruin & Flight
Hex & Flame: Mirror of Shadows
Litany & Tongue: A Devotional Duet
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Ko-fi — Poetry by Rowan Evans
Poetry by Rowan Evans 