Fall Parade

How far is Heaven from Hell?
How long the heavenly fell?

What beauty. How bright and tall,
One angel, fated for fall.
Lucifer whom grace had failed,
He too from Heaven hailed.
Angel-son, God’s greatest pride,
Once was heaven’s brightest light.

He served as His wise mirror,
To warn Him of each error.
His wise charge given by God,
To ask, question, pry, and prod.
He’s to doubt men and greater,
All things, but the creator.

He queried, no cessation,
So God fielded each question.
This scrutiny played great part,
In the skilful cosmic art.
At last, questions flew too far,
He questioned—God—answered: war.

“What’s an angel, loyal thrall?
Does, this, God truly know all?”
This scrutiny, this question,
A mutiny, transgression!
Brother faced brother, angels died,
Doubt became fratricide.

Heaven’s betrayer soon was felled,
Rebellion quickly quelled.
As kin killed kin, ‘the field was lost,’
Fire of war turned to frost.
In war’s wake came the tolling bell,
Thus, dawn’s son woke in Hell.

Distant the walls of Heaven lie,
High, to the sky they fly.
So long he wound around, and round,
The gates, he could not find.
He looked, and walked, and knocked,
But Heaven remained locked.

A serpent’s repent, this it went,
He cried his own lament:
“Hear, why this exiled parasite,
Attempted parricide.”
No answer came, no word, no roar.
Cold silence carved a hole.

“Ah, well? Can Heaven not hear well?
Can Heaven not hear Hell?
I know He can hear, can He not?
Where is our mighty God?”
An answer came as storm and rain,
Hail came with icy pain.

Lucifer, now wingless lizard,
Fled the freezing blizzard.
Yet the tempest, did not repel,
Came and froze all of Hell.
“A Kingdom made of ice,” he yelled,
“A Kingdom, for the felled.”

“My Father’s bequest, this hailstone,
Will make the finest throne.
This parade of vice; mice and lice,
Shall build New Paradise.
Why hide my hide? I will not fade.
Hear this? My masquerade.”

So he bade all from Hell to here,
Blare songs for Heav’n to hear.
And some did come, brother and kin,
Those wolves in human skin.
And they danced, and drank, and feasted,
They changed, skin for skin traded.

“Just like the snake I’m shedding skin,
To peel all guilt and sin.”
And he ripped the skin from his own,
Leaving only flesh and bone.
But under the old skin and veil,
Quick grew new out of scale.

He tried to shed his wicked skin,
Yet his sin remained within.
With a sigh and resignation,
Took charge of his station.
So Hell’s new prince, once cast down,
Donned horns as his crown.

Wicked men with sinister grins,
Came to hail their young prince.
Demon, sinner in the nether,
Worked and built together,
Forged an empire from odium,
Crowned Pandemonium.

Years the carnival carried on,
But he, the son of dawn,
More a dragon than angel now,
He still asked why and how,
Sotto voce, a silent song:
“Was this His plan all along?”