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’
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