Wince

I met a demon in a dingy place,

Hatred was his child
Disparage was his lullaby.

I met a demon with a naive face
Deception was his charm
Predispose was his style

I met a demon with soothing voice
Poison was what he spoke
Lies were all he tried 

I asked the demon who he was,
Where does he reside?
In your very soul, just beside me, 
The angel in me cried.

I stabbed the demon, in and out
With all the angel's light
With no more words and just a WINCE,
The demon in me died.