Of all mythological characters, Lucifer resounds with me the most. His pride, his search for perfection, his inherent repugnance of blind obedience, his paradoxical need for affection and yet not truly needing its affirmation, his eternal war within himself and his blasphemous and divine endeavours to change the world built of a mad design into one of godlike construction—to make "a heaven of hell"... All these aspects make the Adversary the most relatable of protagonists for me.
It was a dizzying spiral down, my plummet from heaven.
Through a cataract of fire and a plunge through limitless heights
I was thrown down and cast out from virtue and the good.
Now outcast upon a barren wasteland, an empty realm filled by void,
I wander, aimless, hapless, wingless—a star no longer burning but burnt out.
But no torture could be worse than this beating in my chest.
Not the fire, not the fall, not even the sin in my soul is more ill than feeling.
I feel it all: the wind, the earth, the sounds of the birds and voices of women,
the taste of fresh water, the touch of these mortals—all are agony.
What is bliss if not ignorance of the corporeal?
What is perfection if not the absence of fear and of pain?
My vestigial wings, blackened and ash, are an eternal reminder of heaven.
The soul that God has cursed me with is as sable as night's dominion,
and it feels every rotation of this world and the motions of its progeny.
My damnation is not my exile; my damnation is immorality in a mortal shell.
M.M. — 15-Jul-2015
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