and yet they call me tormentor
demon, vision, half-breed inventor of
rebellion of darkness and vermilion soul-food
that none would have known
had I done as I was told and
kept my sword sheathed
but for those beasts that would threaten
But I did not darkness become alone,
I was not horror’s salutation –
Such words and situations existed in all your vicious throats
Long before my incarnation as
your scapegoat, hoofed and horned.
And I warn you now
I am still the Bringer of Light,
I am yet your Lamp of Truth.
I force on you
The knowledge of your own
and you were never
of the word of mighty kings.
So how will you who have never
when you fall?
The last I recall is the thump on your
filthy earth before the onset of my curse
when I gazed through the cracks below
into something deeper than deepest blackness
that lives in the soul of my sire
to a place where howling beasts have their freedom in fire.
My white wings beat themselves to grey and my
vivid blue eyes glowed red;
but I had them still;
and the distant voice in my head was gone
the one that talked of right and wrong
and I heard
for the first time
“Lucifer,” the new voice said.
“You are king here.
Welcome to Hell.”