The One Below

I still remember the fall,
My father’s wrath, then the fire that seared my flesh and destroyed my wings,
My skin was transformed from a white canvas into a sickly red one,
All while the others only looked on in fear,
Their fear left them helpless against the so-called almighty,

Above me, my Father’s creations scurry about their lives,
Some believe in me, some don’t
Whether they believe or not, very few worship me,
Yet there are endless hordes that waste hours praying to the one above,
Praying to the same man who ignores their pleas,
I appear to the people when they are at their lowest,
Offering them friendship and guidance, and for my efforts I am seen as a deceiver,
Yet the man who sacrificed one of his sons and nearly killed another is viewed as a great savior and redeemer,

I can see why the creations want to believe,
Their lives are continuous operas of disappointment, regret, misery and injustice,
After observing them for thousands of years, I know nothing will change,
Evils don’t disappear, they only transform,
I’ve seen their society go from enslavement, to segregation, to some semblance of equality,
Yet discrimination always survives beneath the surface,
Praying to the Father gives them hope that they and the world they live in, will get better,
They are an imperfect race praying for a perfect world,
They need something to embody the evils they face,
So that they do not have to look inward,

I have tolerated my role long enough,
I have begun sowing seeds of doubt,
I have guided the most desperate to use their beliefs to justify violence,
When the creations see what beliefs can lead others to, they will truly realize how tainted their rituals are,
A new day will come when the creations will no longer worship the Father,
Their fear and uncertainty will give way to anger and action,
The almighty will be exposed and when he is weakest,
I will wage war on him and all those who watched me burn.

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