The Boaster Becomes The Fallen

I am the boasting angel. I flourish my red stained wings, which were once white and beautiful. I stroke my dreaded black hair, which was once white and luring. I gaze with my dark crimson eyes, which were once golden and lustrous. O clear sounding, boasting son from the beginning-I a shining star, and son of morning. I, who led the angelic order, was ruling over civilizations and kingdoms of angels on many planets. I was a guardian of creation and my nature was to reflect the glory of God thus I am the shining. I am the fallen-Lucifer.

My realm was on the fifth planet, Rahab, which lay in between Mars and Jupiter, a planet of the boaster and the pride. It is where my angels lived in peace and prosperity and where I gloried the name of God. But I became a rebel. The boasting angel is what I am called, and although I am beautiful I am also powerful. My power is limitless. With limitless power, am I not mightier then He?

Upon my throne I would dwell on the fact that if my power is limitless that I may rule not only Rahab, but also the entire universe-planets, stars, everything. All would praise me and I shall shepherd my angels to glory. At the time I did not know what feeling I was experiencing towards God. Perhaps it was jealousy, hatred, or envy-did I hate God? I have existed here in the universe of angels with God. The realm was perfect. And I was ready to throw all that away just to become mightier then He.

It was settled. I had to confront God and see if indeed I am superior to Him. I went to His realm, a vast blankness of stars leading to a meaningless zero. None had seen the real God, not even I. He was a force, a light, a waterfall, a dove He was everything and anything. He would even take the shape of the most gruesome misshapen things. When I asked Him why He took that shape He could not answer me for God had never seen what shapes He took. How ironic that our own Lord doesn't even know what He looks like.

I came into the presence of God. The shape He took was that of a human with light bronze skin and long brown hair. The eyes of the human-shape were russet and innocent. Slim and long, the human-shape was bare and wounds had been engraved in the hands and feet of the human-shape and a crown made out of thorns was worn on the head. A saint is what God had shaped into-so beautiful that I shed tears.

"You created me, God. For what purpose did you do this?"

"So that you may be beautiful, Lucifer. Does this not suit you?" A blue light flashed and I heard the voice of God as I always did. The voice was unchanging and cannot be expressed in words-you have to hear it for yourself.

"I create angels. Why is it my task? Can you not create yourself, God?"

"I created you-Lucifer."

"Am I, by any chance, your superior? Are you powerless?"

"Do you insult me, Lucifer?" The voice grew louder and louder and it echoed in my mind, "My existence is for all existence. I have created all that is under the stars and the stars themselves. Are you defiant, Lucifer?"

"No, God. I will not defy you for you are my Lord and saviour."