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.

Rooms filled with fire compelling the darkness,
burning on light, emptying the room. No
hearing or seeing or smelling, only
tasting the smoke of my friends burning, feeling
the flames licking my cheeks. The faint sound of
wood thudding into a skull reverberates
through me. So far away yet still here.
The light comes back to see the bodies
of loved ones falling, skulls caved in. Bones limp
and eyes sparkless. Dead. I hear laughter as
palms hover over candles, seething and melting
skin dripping from their hands, faces.
Mouths misshapen and crude, jagged,
cruel. Skin drained, white as bone, red eyes of blood
dripping with death. Your soft body approaches me.
All is calm and well until your body
merges with the rest of them and you condemn me
with eyes of rotting flesh.

Grass beneath my feet
and soil in my hands,
tipping.
Your lips on mine,
wrapping me around your fingers
and splitting the silence
with anticipation,
falling.
I keep waiting for the world
to one day become still
but you dizzy and confuse me
as if you are a planet
and I am the asteroid
caught in your orbit.

Your arms are wrapped around my neck
containing me, choking me,
holding me in place
so you can **** me faster. You push
yourself against me in the hopes
of me returning the gesture
but instead, you're crushing
the air from me and now I'm deflated.
Heart-throb.
You touch me
but there's no more to you than skin.
You don't want me,
nobody does.
So don't touch me with those hands of yours
and pretend like you do.

I was lost
and you were gone
but here we are,
together, complete,
and there is a symphony
waiting for us
somewhere better
than this.
I'm sorry I thought
the light
had left your eyes.

Even before I knew
What you really are to me
A friend, a bestfriend, a lover
I knew you are someone
I wouldn't want to leave
So hold my hand
I won't let go.

Hatred turns my mind to liquid
and it seeps through your fingers, clumps
pouring down the drain,
punishing me for ever believing
in something other than the crippling
nothingness that haunts my horizons. Sudden
emptiness is brooding over me,
soaking me, and
soaking I am. I think I'm going to die here.