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high above
the victors sing,
I rush to greet the land
despite protests
from broken wings

I curse that sword
how could Michael best... me?
how could I fall to him
when my war was with He?

He,
Him,
His domain was all time and space
jealous eyes let serpent tongue 
twist jealous minds
but now we all fall from grace

these comrades of mine
are no comrades at all
mere pawns in my plans
now all the pieces fall

falling,
falling still,
down to the mud and clay
heaven was once home
now, an eternity away

soon I shall lay
where meek mortals stand
the indignity
but alas,
He has more to His plan

His plan is Always,
down further I shall go
to fire without the light
to magma, to brimstone

only fools pity my fate,
for if only they knew
I,
the most fallen of angels
had worse planned
for you


Falling Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
May 27th 2020

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