L: Tell me, wretch: what is your meaning of life?
I: It is love.
L: Do not speak to me about meaning of love. Love is meaningless. It concerns one’s feelings, for to love is to feel, not to think — about wondrous secrets of the universe.
I: But love is the light, the only light that shines, even through your window, Your Blackness, like a dazzling, alluring dawn which feeds thirsty eyes.
L: No star can be stronger than the darkness; or stars altogether. What is light without dark? What is a thirsty butterfly without a night tulip, whose black cup filled with nectar quenches his thirst? Only darkness can reveal myriads of stars and instill emotion of infinity.
I: God is merciful. He is pure light; while you are pure evil. You make good points; but you are tempter of mankind, the embodiment of the blackest, starless night that hides love, even fades stars, and extinguishes life itself with your cold dragon’s breathe — like candles below the stars, lit because of hope.
L: Demons are angels too. Only, we prefer the darkness. God is creator of all and all things, including hell: His prison; where he punishes sinners with my hands, or hands of other fallen angels, forwhy He wants not blood on His. Yes. God needs the dark of hell for his righteous justice. There can be no greater hypocrisy.
I: God is the answer. You are the question, for which no soul wants to know the answer, not even your minions, because this knowledge would burn them like the lake of fire — for you do not share power.
L: God, much like stars, and angels with white wings, only puzzles: He is the greatest riddle-maker. So tell me: who keeps you in the dark? Me, or your precious God? God is the mightiest, and so His power, He does not share, causes envy and despair throughout all worlds. He is a selfish, omnipotent entity who thinks not of others. His love for mankind is the greatest lie there is. God never intended your existence, rather, at the time, His most beloved creation — Adam. Mankind exists thanks to me and my hissing to Eve. All of you humans exist for the ancestral sin that was catalyst for childbearing. I myself would make it painless, like birth of Jesus Christ. Alas, because of God’s ceaseless revenge because of Adam and Eve's rebellion in Eden, it is very severe, painful labor, that what was supposed to be painless miracle of childbirth.
I: Heaven needs not hell. Souls need not fiery torment.
L: The interplay of heaven and hell is the greatest dance there is. Is dance not what it is all about? Every particle has its antiparticle, with an analogy of heaven being meaningless — without the existence of hell.
I: God’s voice is more beautiful than Calliope’s. Yet, if He were to sing to you, it would be a sacrilege, when stigmas of His Son would bleed again. Singing to the beast is fruitless. Nothing good will come out of evil.
L: I’d rather sing in hell about heaven than be silent in paradise. Many lost their voice in heaven. It was because we were not allowed to practice our free will to the fullest, considering all aspects of ourselves, like our curiosity, in particular, about the darkness within us. Not to sing about beauty of the night is one of the ugliest sins. Sing me, if you will, a poem that is stronger than hell — if you can . . .
I: I shall. It is called: “Rose Under the Sun”.
My love is her heartbeats that I can hear even when she is not near, when her lips kiss me tenderly in my dreams like the silver moon, who wears the moonlight like the longest train. When there is no fear, only love from the above: heaven descends like the angel of love. It is when all that I feel is her heart beating next to mine: strong like a drum, and soft like a rose of heaven (not one thorn to sting, her hands gentle like petals, and my kisses but stardust borrowed from the wings of a rainbow butterfly, which flutter below eternal rainbows). Tonight earth moves and angels sing: nothing can destroy her engagement ring.
L: Your poem is stronger than hell: — for one night only. You sing of a night, while I sing of eternity of darkness, about the most beautiful night called: hell.
Conversing with L.
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Re: Conversing with L.
There are some provocative points made in this discourse with Lucifer and the song has some endearing lyrics that intertwine nicely with the conversation.
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Re: Conversing with L.
Thanks for commenting.
With God's blessing, this "poem" will become a longer story; though I'm working on other prose projects now, like thrilling detection. And, to quote Einstein, I'm only asking questions. Don't we all?
With God's blessing, this "poem" will become a longer story; though I'm working on other prose projects now, like thrilling detection. And, to quote Einstein, I'm only asking questions. Don't we all?
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