He prayed to be one of those angles and always kept on dreaming. He knew he had that zeal in him, that even the best lacked. He knew all along, but the desperation for his rightful place was turned on a blind eye. He passed gradually immersing in one being he was not. Its true when the tales tell that his white, pure, delicate wings were burned with black fire and his scares were made fun of. But now his ecstasy will deport to jeopardize. He had regretted enough; he was shattered enough to realize that all along he was the angel and the world was a Satan. Now ruffling from the soot, he will rise; he will fight the dreads and make his way to where he belongs. He will challenge his unconsciousness and will now execute his glory to the darkest world radiating the deepest message. Today in every single nightmare he cries, ‘Behold! I am Lucifer’