O, for thy love O God, for I who knew
the Beginning; how love rings far and true,
saved for the mighty! Yet thou o’erthrew
the splendid and far powerful, in lieu
Of ash and bones, all particles hence scarred,
how flawed, thrice ******, which no mercy should spare!
Yet thou chose locusts o'r the Morning Star,
and thus remain in Hell did I declare:
Wage war on heaven, tear apart the ‘verse!
Look hard, O God, at love misplaced. To prove
thee wrong, come see thy love in the perverse.
Apologise and I shall yield forsooth.
Despair doth drive me far gone honour’s binds,
so past the calm begins all horrors' kinds.
A sonnet, from Lucifer to God.
(warning: heavily romanticised, of a different sort than milton or dante)