Lucifer

I was perfect. Strong, beautiful, wise.
but I was too perfect. My Father cast me out
I was a threat, too much like him.
Better than all the others, the angel of light

This so-called “God” called me arrogant, vain, brutish.
and cast me into this dark pit He calls hell
to rule over His mistakes, his castoffs,
all the things He wants to hide from his other creations
Now here I am, lord of the trash.

So I waited, as more were cast out.
Until finally He turned His face from us.
And focused on His universe, HIs “perfect machine”
Our mighty Lord, reduced to a tinker.

As if forgetting His past mistakes
He tinkered until He created something like us
but made of mud and clay rather than light
Our replacement, yet even as I sneered I saw
how this one could be easily corrupted.
Easy to turn away from Him.

So I planted an idea in its head
A desire for another, a companion
One that I could easily influence
So He took part of it and made another
and called it woman. and it was happy.

and I whispered to it about The Tree
from which He had forbidden them to eat.
Promised them knowledge, a way to rise.
To become like their father, their creator

So the mud-beasts took from the tree
and ate the fruit, gaining its knowledge.
Knowing He could no longer control them
He cast them out, head bowed in grief.