Morning Star

You were as beautiful as the stars you set out to create,
And the cords from the harp you created sang to you,
Even as you fell from the highest forms of grace.
They watched in awe as your eternity began,
Shrouded in the shapes of fire, dust and ash, that glowed in the darkest parts.
So you roam your newfound kingdom, surprised at how alike you two are.
Eager to become what others painted you to be, you graciously accept your crown,
Ready to reign over a kingdom of saints and sinners,
Knowing it would be too easy to cast them out as you had once been.
You watch and rule, growing bored with tired souls and has-beens,
All the while, eager to corrupt what never was yours to touch,
You seek the darkest hearts and the most tainted minds.
You’ve sat at this throne for quite some time now,
But each new age brings the worse out in the beings you rule over,
And you wait for the time when your kingdom will bring about the change
He sought; for what is Hell if not the place for atonement and miracles?
Though you wouldn’t know, as you are still waiting for yours,
Covered in fire, dust and ash, ready to pull you from the depths you’ve for dug for yourself,
To return you to the stars, to a love you could never find in your own kingdom.

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