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Ohhh, this is a lovely poem! I'll give analysing it a try, yeah? And give you a review of sorts.

It's in free verse, and it only rhymes sometimes (feather/weather, daze/voice - though this one is a slant rhyme I think you guys call it - sorry, English is not my first language and it's been a while since I wrote poetry interpretation^^ - throne, wrong).

The verses seem to be collected together in two - enjambments that tie two thoughts together. The angel image is usually tied to concepts of etherealness - the harp music, adjectives like youthful, graceful. While the demon is tied to darkness, weight, mistakes. You use female pronouns for the angel and male for the demon, which made me think this is a parallel of sorts to very mortal feelings and experiences. Note that it also ties masculinity to negative things (stealing, thief, night, darkness, mistakes), which I assume is intentional - the demon as a corrupting influence, a man as a mistake for a particular woman.

You emphasize downward movement twice - lower and lower, and down and down. Climbing back up seems not as important here, though I feel it should also be. You stress the mistake, the getting older and impure as more important than the struggle to get back up after falling, which tracks with your title.

Two things I noticed where you can maybe adjust the wording a bit:
"youthfulness glows in every glow." and "The voice belonging to the hand was gentle and softspoken voice,"
For the first, I would simply use a different object (maybe "youthfulness glows in every move" or "in every touch" or "gaze"). For the second, you mention the hand barely two verses above, so leaving it out might work? Or you could simply put "Its voice", or "his voice" or something along those lines.

The emphasis on the two verses "It comes quick, /like a thief in the night." is well done, they clearly and cleanly split your poem in two parts. The first bit is all the angel, everything is her decision, from playing the harp to flying down, curious to see. After, the decision is taken from her by the demon, who seduces with honeyed words (loving that image, by the way, sticky words) and a possessive touch. You even made the two verses bold to add a visual division as well.

A quick thought to the slanted rhymes:
daze/voice works very well, because it makes me think of being drunk in the way the tongue feels heavy and can make sounds blur and make them similar.
Throne/wrong: This one is odd, because it binds two concepts I feel shouldn't go together. She returns home, where everything is safe and untouched, but she isn't the same. It works well, because it emphasises the break, but... eh? I'm not too sure about it.

Overall, I really enjoyed this poem's images. The light as well as the dark, the sharp contrast between masculinity and femininity (I don't want to assign genders to angels and demons, that feels... weird). And the message it carries is powerful, though sadly it paints ageing as a bad thing. Ah well. I like that mistakes are worn obviously and clearly on the angel, whereas the demon remains untouched, unmarred, safe in his darkness.

Firstly for me, I'm new here by the way in case I'm bypassing on convention.
Firstly For Me, I can say in a few words. This Poem is Shockingly Breathtaking to the point that angels are gifts if not treasures of heaven. In addition I would go along by my emotional intellectual expression and say Curiosity. It's always a wonder why it kills the cat or how. Appeal maybe or Attraction to Appeal or whatever appears to have the appeal of Attraction but, That Old cat always gets caught. Age Can Be A Farcry In The Muse Of Melodies From Tunes In The Tone Of Angels. That If It Ever Falls Or Drops from the heavenly sky clouds. The Mood Of The Tune Changes And It Turns sequentially Dark With The Blackening Of The Light. A twist of the mist, with a jist to make things seem a blurr. And In That darkness, blackness or blurr. A Hand Dark In Darkness, With A Sense Of Contrast Presence , Especially In and with A Voice That Who's words drip sweet like honeycomb. Diswayding The Loom to be washed by the Allure Of The Tone That Sings Like It's The Way Home Even if in the blurr, in the darkness we can't see, The Perils Diguised in a sweet sound like sweet sirens of comfort that lead to a Doom, leaving memory to assume with youthfulness, of youthfulness but forget once we fall as angels that the only thing down is the ground, is called the earth that may be a ditch, where in its core may lurch hideous monsters and creatures that wait to take whats left until youth is questioned by beauty if it will ever be found again through bold lines of age.An Angel, Faced To Face . To A Face To Face Mirror where you only have yourself to face. And The Seduction That Grabbed Your Curiosity And Took Your Kitten Away. And In That Wake Back In Heaven.Learn Of The Wisdom Nine Lives Have To You Carry Yet, Off and Of the mistakes once Made.

Thank You lovelydove for the celestial essential experience.

Firstly for me, I'm new here by the way in case I'm bypassing on convention.
Firstly For Me, I can say in a few words. This Poem is Shockingly Breathtaking to the point that angels are gifts if not treasures of heaven. In addition I would go along by my emotional intellectual expression and say Curiosity. It's always a wonder why it kills the cat or how. Appeal maybe or Attraction to Appeal or whatever appears to have the appeal of Attraction but, That Old cat always gets caught. Age Can Be A Farcry In The Muse Of Melodies From Tunes In The Tone Of Angels. That If It Ever Falls Or Drops from the heavenly sky clouds. The Mood Of The Tune Changes And It Turns sequentially Dark With The Blackening Of The Light. A twist of the mist, with a jist to make things seem a blurr. And In That darkness, blackness or blurr. A Hand Dark In Darkness, With A Sense Of Contrast Presence , Especially In and with A Voice That Who's words drip sweet like honeycomb. Diswayding The Loom to be washed by the Allure Of The Tone That Sings Like It's The Way Home Even if in the blurr, in the darkness we can't see, The Perils Diguised in a sweet sound like sweet sirens of comfort that lead to a Doom, leaving memory to assume with youthfulness, of youthfulness but forget once we fall as angels that the only thing down is the ground, is called the earth that may be a ditch, where in its core may lurch hideous monsters and creatures that wait to take whats left until youth is questioned by beauty if it will ever be found again through bold lines of age.An Angel, Faced To Face . To A Face To Face Mirror where you only have yourself to face. And The Seduction That Grabbed Your Curiosity And Took Your Kitten Away. And In That Wake Back In Heaven.Learn Of The Wisdom Nine Lives Have To You Carry Yet, Off and Of the mistakes once Made.

Thank You lovelydove for the celestial essential experience.