there was a tale
of an angel
with a wing so bright
you could see it at night
but he never had the other
to complete his pair
and in its place
was a wing filled with air
though his beauty was there
and his wing was glistening
he could never fly
because of his missing wing
so he was good
but never great
he was a mate
but never checkmate.
always an angel
never God
always second best
never firstly sought.
and out of this jealousy
a raging war
he stared at his creator
like a lion he roared
he took with him
a third of heaven's stars
and there on the battlefield
blood shed redder than mars
and the battle was won
not by the angel
but by Michael
the warrior more faithful
“Lucifer!” he cried
standing over the earth
“Away from me,” responded Lucifer,
cast down on the turf.
there he lay
with the rest of the ‘meteors’
once stars now never
now they meet the earth.
so he lives
not for long
with the humans
in their song
spreading pain
spreading terror
but this won’t last
forever.
a tale of pride. a tale of anger. a tale of Lucifer.