I was the bringer of dawn, pulling the sun into the sky and allowing my constellation to fade before His light. I leant against the edge of darkness and stood, for a moment, amongst the bright white of Heaven's Throne, deep chasms of blue circling my feet. I was the greatest of them all,
He made me the greatest of them all. I was a prince, the lord of the air. Now, I am nothing. The shining one, light bearer; sent to epitomise darkness and evil. My wings have been blackened by soot and clogged by smoke - they will never fly again. I will never see the sun or be free amongst the stars once more, pushing the sky around the Earth. I will never feel His approving hand on my shoulder or resting on my head. He cast me away as if I was nothing and cut my hair from my head, replacing flaxen curls with horns of blackened bone.
The Devil, they call me. The slanderer who was hurled from heaven to hell. I see myself in pools of despair: is this who I have become? Where did the man who shook the earth with the beat of his wings and make whole countries tremble go? I made the world a wilderness and now I'm gone it has been cultivated into a dull plain of melancholy. I am nothing without the white brightness of the night's sky, I was son of the morning. Venus was my head, the morning star my heart. Now, my constellation lies in the ashes of soul fire because of my foolish pride and envy.