An Angel and a Demon Speak Together at Long Last

We don't buy human souls.
They are not yours to sell.
 
Nor do we save them; they
Are not in danger.
 
Stop being clever.
 
God has everything well
In hand.
 
We are the outcasts.
 
We are the elect.
 
We are the janitors,
The cleaning ladies,
Sopping up vomit
In a frat house sink.
 
We touch strangers,
Give them gifts, we
Remind, reward,
Destroy.
 
We bite and claw.
We soothe and serve.
We burn with an unknown
Shadow fire.
 
We are forced to forget.
We are divine sycophants,
The bitches of the heavenly
Cell block.
 
We are the bad boys,
The rough friends.
Mom's restless nightmare;
Her soul comfort,
Her sad defeat.
 
We are two sides of the same
Coin.
 
We are pleasure and regret.
A static signal, none can forget.
 
We know no birth,
We know no death.
We are only ourselves.
Born of a holy loneliness,
We burst forth from a
momentary lapse.
 
We demand.
We serve.
We command.
 
Listen to us.
 
We give,
We take,
We watch it all roll away.
 
There is no experience in which we do not delight.
There is no occurrence in which we do not weep.
 
The rest is a mystery, of which I will not speak.
There are some things the shadow puppets must
Not know.
 
These are the rules.
If you have a complaint,
Take it up with the Boss.