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This Beast, This Angel

No: this, my love, is neither you nor I.
This is the beast or angel, changing form,
The will that we are scourged and nourished by.

The golden fangs, the tall seraphic sword,
Alike unsheathed, await the midnight cry,
Blazon their answer to the stammered word.

Beneath this gaze our powers are fused as one;
We meet these eyes under the curve of night.
This is the transformation that is done

Where mortal forces slay mortality
And, towering at terrible full height,
This beast, this angel is both you and I.

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