Paradise Shattered - Complete!

[Apollyon]

This story is in poetic form, so may well require effort to understand.

I'd like to thank TMA for providing the inspiration that drove me to write this story =).

Please comment, I'll be posting it more or less as I write it.

Paradise Shattered

The night was dark and accursed

with echoings of cries and pleas

that tore the fabric of smothering black.

Fires burned, greying the outskirts

with enlightened power of humanity.

Lightning struck at the minds of the present.

Lightning of power; lightning of knowledge.

Behold now th'assembly three,

in blood they chant with knives at hand.

Sacrificed whisperings long have sound.

"The clearing fog is now outdone

no longer will this one see the sun."

The one in grey didst say to th'other,

For upon a stone tablet bright

a man locked in battle with thought.

A futile effort now cut short.

"See him now thus awake."

The one in blue boldly spake.

The storm had gone, or so it appeared.

But the floor is still with blood smeared.

Looked upon was this man's form.

"Alas 'tis just the eye of the storm..."

[TMA_1]

whoa good grief! you write poetry beautifully! great atmosphere and mood you gave, tahts so important. keep it up, make this into a kind of epic poem. wonderful!

and I hope it wasent bad inspiration that I gave to you, then that would be bad for me.lol :D

[Apollyon]

Thanks alot, TMA. And it was positive inspiration so no worries :).

The hour was small when ceased the fall

sweat and grime that never would heal

it poured as an ocean of salty brine.

Gasping now with unfelt anguish,

but knew that in this prison he would not languish.

A knocking sounded on his skull

a sound no deafness could anull.

Calling to him from th'unfastened door,

on his feet he stood once more.

The one in blue, Azhal his name.

Man-god of no minor fame.

A wave of his hand and so life coursed.

Its form was light, through darkness forced.

bright sea-purple awashed the walls

heeding to the blue one's calls.

The shadows that lurked crept back,

but did not flee.

"Awake now, Initiate, One of pain,

lest you wish future days to be the same."

[TMA_1]

whoa, I like the story setup so far and the style of poetry you are using is awesome. did it come naturally, or are you actually structuring your poetry along poetic presets?

[Apollyon]

Well, as you can probably tell, the rhyming and rhythm is more or less random so far, although I do try and keep it so it sounds roughly right :).

Awake he did, afraid of light

despite his terror of the night.

Searching for some unknown clue

a passage of time of yet no cause,

and after perhaps a short pause

or perhaps a lengthy time for none can say

what time can be but time itself,

he stood and watched the light grow dim

until the blackness covered him.

"Come with me, Initiate young

I will be your Charon of ballads sung."

Azhal called to him from shadows black.

Th'Initiate was though reluctant to go,

the darkness of evil scared him so.

But time grew short, dwell he could not,

lest his mind and body surely rot.

Into the grasping, gripping, grappling shadows

maybe he would never leave

for these were shadows,

ones he could not perceive.

At last the darkness stripped away

he stood blinking in bright young day.

Such a morning as he could only remember

before ripped from him were all thoughts tender.

But now he stood; Man-god was he.

Now nothing was there he could not see...

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The night was bright

The night was young

Hiel thought in fiendish flight.

Upon charred wings he soared above

no longer white; those of a dove,

but black and dead, evil things

or so they seemed to those below.

Pondering the long-lost lies,

he through the heavens sped,

"But then perhaps this heaven's dead."

He cried in defiance, wings outstretched.

A call lost soon for quickly came

three other ones who hated his name.

Bloody battle thus ensued,

blood of power, blood of knowledge.

Spilt for both needs on this day.

[Apollyon]

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Learning of forgotten ways,

the white-necked Initiate passed his days.

The skills of mage-craft to him were known,

as he studied with his books, always alone.

Each passing day his power grew,

certainly he was damned, through and through.

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Hiel was a fish of air.

He flew and slit through wind-swept heights.

The others were severed - their lives cut.

Darkened blood covered his graceful flight.

Paint of war, he wished for more.

Murderous eyes flashed love's gentle pain.

Deliver't would he, kill and maim.

For never would there be, never could there be,

never would the one he hated bow and see,

that peace might be 'tween heaven and earth.

Th'air resisted as if alive and struggling for life,

but Hiel fought hard; cut through as a knife.

No divinity could cease his onwards flight,

until down he dived, heated earth above him passed.

He came home, but home did not come to he.

Covering his eyes - he could not bear to see.

Slaughtered.

[Apollyon]

--------------------------------------------------------------

Burning sun glared out 'cross landscape calm,

th'initiate awoke; another morning arrived.

His power was grand yet full of fear,

for studied had he for many a year.

On this holy day - oh not the same,

he fasted and prayed until the time,

he gathered belongs and off-set swift.

The holy place awaited; church of He.

Reluctancy-gripped on his journey short,

a dark thing pushed him away from his course.

Perhaps a shadow, thick and black,

perhaps a saviour in dark apparel.

Chantings, chantings.

The hall filled with revering voices,

but a sarcasm deep within them sounded.

Th'initiate was sad, depression-cast,

misery filled this church with ironic hate.

He could not grip the reason why.

Why He was with misery fought.

Tears crept, his pallour greyed.

His pain was great and he could not bear.

He wailed and fled, 'cross the divine place.

The others looked on, they knew his curse,

for they themselves felt this pain,

but came here still, although in vain,

and hoped to be from damnation saved.

The one in grey didst on-look.

He smiled at this, delighting in pain.

Such an emotion he could not possess.

The one in blue, Azhal is name,

sneered at he in clear disdain.

The grey one laughed and gathering his robe,

as though his strength for some onslaught,

he left the place that marked such hurt..

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Death, destruction, pain and anguish

with these things did he take his power

his home destroyed - brethren murdered,

Hiel flew, an arrow to the heart of his target.

Great spires awoke the clouds above,

the cities light and yet so dark,

he flew on his last breath close.

He knew that he could not be saved from this.

Expecting death he inwards flew.

Old was he and powerful too,

wisdom came as did knowledge.

But he could not have a hope so thin

against the might of heav'n.

The city before him, Haspis named.

A gate way beyond it held, but of no matter.

It was not this he sought nor even cared.

But death he wished, his own and theirs.

Summoming his strength now,

he roared a knell and against he soared.

Denizens of Haspis outwards poured.

He was surrounded, with death and swords,

the beating wings deafened he who flew alongside.

"Who are you wishing death so swift?"

A golden seraphim demanded of him,

"Oh puny Fallen, your death hath come"

Anger flared, a fire inside,

Hiel spread his wings the more,

"Why do I come to your gates?

Why do I throw my life to you, oh angels?

Vengeance is a bitter thing and full of pain."

"Fortunate it is, your life shall be swift then!"

"We shall see" He flew.

Hiel was gripped with power,

He batted away his foes so many,

they could not hope to reach his heart.

From his hands their fast came fire,

embodiment of his anger dire.

Th'angels wings burst unto flame,

A hundred he killed and yet still more.

He was tired of life, so full of hurt

misery, anguish and always war.

This day he would die, for ever more.

[Apollyon]

----------------------------------------------------------------

Many days hath passed since that holy day,

and th'Initiate had nigh forgot the misery of life.

A scream echoed evilly through the bedecked halls of th'Academy.

A man had died; the one of robe red.

While willfully his wistful ways of magic had bent him awry

a spell had been cast but not of his devising.

The darker powers had abused his soul;

and death didst he summoned in the stead of life.

A fun'ral to be held was never blacker.

All to attend the ceremony of the one of red.

Another day of sadness, so similar to th'other.

Archaic forces held he that day,

and whispered to him as shadows of old

perhaps it was this death that made them bold.

They told him things, evil slitherings of hate.

He knew that this world was wrong, it must change,

He knew his destiny, to die and be saved.

Alas he forgot this all, for shadows are lost in light,

but so the secrets lurked, softly 'neath the film of the mind.

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Hiel was nearly ended,

his strength was failing fast.

This his wish, to die avenged.

But perhaps there was a better time and place.

Too late now for last regrets, his life soon gone.

If only things could change.

He knew that he must be the one to change.

Or change th'universe, but such is impossible.

Unless... unless.

Change th'universe, this would he do.

Perhaps not now in this life,

perhaps not even this very universe,

but truly would he do it; he knew it true,

for knowledge spoke to he, and wailed he through.

Suddenly as though divine,

power mighty coursed through his body whole.

His soul was one; united in aim.

He would be this heaven's bane.

He roared in defiance, energy pulsed.

His foes afraid, scattered, regrouped.

They attacked again, numerous as stars,

as bright too but a different light.

Hiel screamed,

"Know this fear oh ones of Heav'n,

clear will it be forever more,

'til I undo thee and thy creation dark!"

Diving fast into the mass of wings,

he tore and ripped their powerful bodies.

They could not win, defeat inevitable.

This task of Hiel too important now.

He struck at the fabric of existence dark,

replaced this blackness with the light.

All were dead, forever more.

Never to reach th'other shore.

[Apollyon]

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Tending to the Library dark,

Th'initiate passed his hours,

searching for th'arcane ways.

seeking power always more.

Every ounce of strength so gained,

more the magical entropy so weighed.

The sins of more, the sins of less.

The sins original, none could bless.

A book he opened,

or tried at least,

for a power closed the tome so tight.

But th'Initiate was one to fight,

he struggled 'gainst the pull of force,

and opened the book despite bindings dark.

Singing forlorn echoed through those halls.

Echoes of the many apocalyptic falls

of those who fought in vain 'gainst

deity so pow'rful yet dark for hark

the book is truth, an evil thing.

For nothing hurts more than deepest truth.

Oftentimes the greatest truths, the simplest tales,

they lift the from eyes the lighter vales

dashing the lies with painful reality.

And so was it now th'Initiate would know,

as reading of the pages black,

black in words, if not in life.

He came upon a truth so dark.

His life near extuinguished gone was the spark.

But he held on with power he had garnered.

And now he knew the darkness lurked;

The evil of magic, nay.

But the evil of those who gave the magic.

For damned are those who make the passage of craft.

Never can they enter the place of heav'n.

For fears the God of man, man's power.

Prophecy knew He as all things,

or so lead to believe were they, the worms of Earth.

Anger.Hate. His rage was mounting.

He smashed the book, and tore its existence.

Agony screamed from his blackened lips.

Fire gushed from the cavernous mouth.

The library gone, his eyes were red.

Vision bloodied he wept distress.

Unleashed had he a thing so black.

A shadow, no longer just a shadow.

A beast so black as to swallow light hole.

It turned slowly on him, its target clear.

Eyes, no eyes, no face a horrid thing.

Evil! Evil! He wept. He wept.

The blackness pounced, claws outstretched.

Claws of the mind, claws of the soul.

Black blood flowed from the wounds

as the evil creature struck at his face.

He screamed. He screamed.

But Azhal was there, he heard the cries.

Light flashed from his hands and the black was gone.

Th'Inititate lay whimpering grounded, whimpering.

"None should see the things you have seen,

nor feel the grip of the darkest claws.

Now you know the damnation of magic.

In time acceptance may come.

Otherwise thou shall die of misery."

"Oh lord, what was that thing so black,

that to look upon it swallowed me whole?"

"T'was a beast of the dark, a guardian shadow,

it sought the knowledge you took from the book,

for He is most cautious."

"Is the black thing deathward gone?"

"Alas no, I have not such power belonging.

'Tis merely gone for now, return though it will.

You must be careful."

And so Th'initiate parted.

Terrified by his future, uncertain as it was,

but also so sad, his life hath no point.

No ultimate future other than present could he see.

He sped towards his home, passing the grey one enshadowed.

[Ice_Cube]

Hope you don't mind me commenting in here. Lets just say I wish I was studying your peotry in English!

[Khan]

Dude that rocks. How'd you come up with it?

[Apollyon]

Woohooo!

Commenters!

Muahahahh you shall never leave now!

Um... er.

Well I got some inspiration from TMA's story and some from Paradise lost and The Wizard of Earthsea.

A lot of it I just made up though. I'm glad you like it (so far...) :D

[Inoculator9]

That is superb Apollyon. Comparable easily to the wasteland (one of the greatest poems ever). I thoroughly enjoyed it :)

[Apollyon]

Thankyou very much, although I wouldn't quite compare it with T.S. Eliot just yet. :)

[Inoculator9]

Your use of verse and rhyme, really does compare to him, IMHO.

[Frodo]

My God Apollyon! You are incredible! This poetry is spectacular! I have never seen anything like it. Amazing...

[Apollyon]

Thankyou very much :). I really appreciate all your comments, thankyou again :).

Desolate

The city with its marble walls

now gone of sound

a shadow's fall.

Hiel inwards flew,

his wings a-stretched

and in blood drenched.

The seals that held the place aloft from evil

could have nought hope 'gainst power

as such that gripped the angel fallen.

The door. The door. He smashed. He broke.

Behold didst he enter that sacred place.

They tried to halt him;

so many did.

They tried to stop him;

So many died.

Slaughtered.

He felt no remorse, no sense of pity,

but blindly butchered the battling foes.

Slaughtered.

'Till anger left him,

he fought no more,

wind whistled,

no birds sang.

The floor slippery, in blood soaked.

And now didst he feel pity, remorse.

He wept.

Tears ambivilent that clouded vision.

But he could not tarry for time ran short,

for none celestine could stop this defining flow.

Surely stepped he entered this domain above.

To the centre of this cloudy realm.

A door, a gate, a terrible thing.

Surely he stepped unto this place.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Afraid he cowered,

In his room so bare.

'Till a knocking black

resounded on his door

"Hark, who cometh here?"

Said he, in fear.

"But a messenger,

from one of grey."

A voice entangled.

"Wishes he to see thine now,

with meeting concerned

in greatest consequence."

"I will come."

And come he did.

Unfastened the locks upon his door,

but not unfastened was fear upon his mind.

The corridor dark he ran along,

fear to speed and speed to fear.

He came upon that room,

as squalid as his own.

A-knocking he called. A-calling he knocked.

"Enter, friend and speak with me."

A voice of grey came from door dark.

Transcended he and stepped within.

Sat upon a chair ahead,

so began a talk of "greatest consequence".

A talk so small,

irrelevant.

He could not understand this call.

Stalling perhaps? But nay.

The Grey One would not, he thought.

But he sensed it.

Harking back from fun'ral passed,

a memory stirred.

He tried to grasp the thing,

a thing that he felt if grasped

he would no longer be who he was,

or feel as he did,

or rather reality would feel him different,

so he pondered.

And he saw the thing concealed in lies.

A shadow. A shadow. Shadow.

He cried in alarm.

Eyes narrowed and ablaze the grey one stood.

There in his hands the black thing crouched.

It slid slowly across the surface of skin,

untouched.

"I'm afraid this thing is gone,

death will be but remaining."

The Grey One whispered, smiling.

Smiling. Always smiling.

Pounced.

-------------------------------------------------------

It swallowed him,

This gate so dire.

He couldst not know the things beyond,

but he bid farewell to his thoughts fond,

and set through.

A light peircing struck,

Tied to hold on to th'other side.

But t'would not let him go.

T'would not let him go.

Dragged screaming through that door,

This land his home, he'd see no more.

Until stood he blinking in the sun,

A different sun; a different world,

For passage had been in thought,

Not in distance or time.

He knew this place,

Yet still knew nothing.

As a dream it had come to he,

This place had he come to see.

Fate had whispered to him

Purpose.

Gathering his might,

Didst he bend that very light,

That didst surround him here.

No longer would his kind dwell in fear.

As afore him now lay a place,

A citadel so vast in pow'r,

That forces above couldst never defeat.

He took the utmost position of the keep,

A tow'r where he lay down to sleep.

For drained was he from battle epic,

And prepared himself for epic trick.

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[IxianMace]

Hmm, things like these start me woolgathering... ;)

[Apollyon]

Is that a good thing? ???

[Apollyon]

The shadow was here.

It clawed evilly at his face,

Struggling he fell, grasping to life.

But t'would not let him go.

T'would not let him go.

The door flung wide,

Azhal entered, one of Man-God kind.

A light flashed forth and the shadow was gone.

Anger burned in his eyes, burned in his heart,

Burned in his very soul.

So it began.

The Grey One rose, hate on his face.

Battle ensued, terrible battle.

Energy danced across that room,

Energy of power. Energy of knowledge.

Power gashed the side of The One of Blue.

Th'Initiate saw this now so true,

the Grey One, could not human be,

Azhal would not win.

And now. Now did the knowledge come.

Knowledge of Power. Knowledge of fear.

Fear to that above, he would take them here.

He remembered his fate.

As not gifted by God.

He cried in defiance and onwards charged.

A thousand spells unleashed in one;

Death by his hand.

Wings out-stretched from the grey-cloaked body.

Angelic form thus betrayed.

He screamed so many tones,

until finally he lay as dust on the chamber floor.

He held his master,

One of Blue.

For death came swift, a mortal blow.

"My Apprentice," said he in the throes,

"Forget not thy fate, tis the fate of Gods."

And death embraced him,

An endless death, no paradise could greet him.

for damned was he, just as Th'Initiate.

Through and through. He wept.

[Apollyon]

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Breathe, breathe,

Breathe and awaken,

Hiel arose from slumber long,

Though not for time seemed other.

Looking out upon plain vast,

From tow'r where he stood dominion,

He saw.

A thousand creatures and yet still more,

All God-Hating ones had found their path,

And now stood to hail at gates below.

Fiendish smile touched the surface of skin,

Hiel knew, God could not win.

Rearing up from celestial purchase,

He roared defiance 'gainst those above.

Many below scattered in fear,

But many besides drew ever near.

"Friends and creatures brave with hate,

Let us rid our world of heavenly taint,

Our numbers are few, yet let that be,

For our time is now, and so they shall see!"

A great cry from those below,

United in cause destruction they'lll sow,

Till none dare break the liberty of life,

Or destroy it more, with godly knife.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alerted by the shouting calls,

Th'initiate stood and listened keen.

"Stand do we under attack,

Let us not give way till our walls they wrack!

Man the keep in defense 'till end,

Let us give a message for them to send."

Sadness gave way to fear,

And fear quick subsided.

Now all left was direst anger.

A half growl in utterance went unheard,

He took up his master's staff,

And went to reave bloody injury,

On those in heavenly employ.

He stood on battlements high,

And looked up towards the sky.

Angelic forms gliding with grace,

Soaring high to reach God's face.

He wove his rage to dearest hell.

The angels saw, and they could tell,

That this battle would not as easy be,

As the one above believed to see.

A thousand flaming deaths erupted from Mages' palms.

Yet still more angels came ever forward,

'Till they engulfed the protection of that place.

Murdering all in their way,

Their confidence did they betray,

For in their midst, a Man-God stood,

They tried to flee but knew none could,

A spell unleashed caught them in flight,

Perished all but yet they still came.

He couldst not hope 'gainst so many foes,

He fled with speed from casted craft.

He had nothing here remaining yet,

Had not ever-persisting debt,

And so he wove an awesome magic,

As gifted by fate, and yet was he subjected to it.

He was swallowed by magics whole,

And spat out again from place to place.

Calm sat he on dry red earth,

Where some had been since very birth.

And then he wept his friends and all he'd lost,

And then wept no more for time had cost.

He looked ahead and saw before him,

Myriad of creatures, Quasit to Seraphim,

And he took up his staff and followed they,

Where they went he couldst not say,

But destiny drove him ever ahead,

And with this fate was he firmly led.

[Apollyon]

--------------------------------------------------------

Sat upon a throne of brass,

Hiel planned his scheme with growing pow'r.

An army had he, and more besides,

He would make his enemy tremble in terror.

Wondering at the world around he pondered long,

What be this world and why be it so?

How many worlds exist to form the fabric of so blackened space?

Where must I go then, to find my enemy, my nemesis, my all?

He would go to realm of God,

And strike him there at very heart.

But first must he know the way

To that domain he knew only

In dreams forsaken of his family and home.

He knew the one to ask: his journey clear,

But hold, for time awaited to find such seer.

Attend must he to organise his force,

And that the path of fate might run its course...

Sitting there upon brazen throne,

Came ones of service, each alone.

Each asked place as ranking fighter.

Only those most powerful entered this domain,

The best of creatures as he ordain'd.

But now came one so small in stature,

How could one so puny expect to be,

Or hope to persuade esteemed lord to see,

That he couldst lead an army of creatures so ancient in pow'r?

But the man stood fast, steel in eye.

Bowed towards angelic one, arose again.

"Dark one of who God yet fears,

A creature of this place cast her leers,

Upon me and atempt'd not permit me enter.

I'm sorry for your loss of minion,

But in distress to death I sent her."

A scorched brow on angelic head rose,

Was it the gorgon whom he had sent into throes?

But he would not let this puny one gain advantage so.

"Impressive, mortal, but I must ask,

Is it place you seek here or other task?

Or seek you challenge with me as lord of this realm?

For if that's so know you cannot overwhelm,

With human cunning nor direst trick,

An angel as I, oldest of all ilk,

At least of those still left below."

Th'Initiate yet stood firm, in face of fear.

And fate touched him again so path lay clear.

"My lord I wish not challenge for realm as this,

For this place is less fav'rable than house of Dis.

Give me place in your army below,

For there are things of God I wish to know."

[Apollyon]

"Bold words for one so small,

Seems you have heeded my call,

But I will fight you and then decide,

Whether you live or join those who died."

The fiend came to his feet,

Steeped forward to in battle meet,

The one who had no regard for life his own,

Whose only desire was chaos sown.

Th'Initiate channeled his rage with fate.

He stood fast afore his foe,

Readied himself to combat go.

His hands ajoined and eyes half-closed,

His lips moved fast, a spell to cast.

Hiel roared and dove forth,

Striking all his strength ahead.

But his claw was struck, his fist stopped dead.

A shielding orb about the mage.

"So a Man-God be you,

This battle may be doubtful yet."

From Hiel's hand flame poured,

Met with freezing magics that forward soared.

This small man was powerful yes,

But mortal remained and couldst not hope,

To win outright 'gainst ancient angel.

Flame subsided but combat not.

Talons stabbed the rounded shield,

Only time stood 'till orb must yield.

Th'Initiate fought back,

With all power he had remaining,

For weak was he from unknown cause.

He could not rest, no time to pause.

A crack in defense fast came open.

A fist gripped man about the neck.

Struggling hard he could not break free.

"Enough now, you have won your place.

There was no chance to defeat me here,

But able you are, more so than most.

You will be my right hand in times ahead,

For I sense power in you as gifted by fate,

But go now for the time is late,

And await my further orders with the troops below.

[Apollyon]

He bowed and left, but his thought remained,

For Hiel to ponder upon at who had trained,

Or what force could have bestowed,

such power on this mage in his own abode.

For surely were the magics of this very place,

Bent to favour the fiend's own face,

And few could put up struggle 'gainst he here,

Who commanded all below with terrible fear.

He knew his path for he could see,

Machinations held above by those for he.

He must find the Weaver, one of fate,

In order to his curiosity sate,

And find the path that he must follow,

Or in defeat must he surely wallow.

Hiel would find Nemesis, embodiment of that to come,

And would discover the path to enemy, and enemy's sum.

Spreading wings once more he upwards soared,

And flew through darkened skies toward,

The place that Nemesis called home.

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Th'Initiate feared his path ahead,

For it seemed that he was firmly led,

Along path that he couldst not decide,

And nor would mortal danger yet subside.

He looked upon the ranks afore,

All manner of creatures from distant shore,

And distant worlds besides his own,

Amidst this crowd must he be thrown,

And order bring to creatures of chaos.

The troops sneered at he,

For as far as they couldst see,

A puny mortal walked before them to command,

And it was his head that they were to demand.

"What tiny mortal be,

That could be so stupid as not to see,

The power that he durst try order,

And the anger that this does border.

For we shall not take order from one as you,

Who could not defeat any of us true."

One in front said in ire,

And fast was he to perish in fire,

That from Man-God's hand did pour,

Till all remained was ash on floor.

[Apollyon]

"Whoever else defies command of mine,

Will be in death combined,

With he you see below you now,

Who I already with peace endow."

The creatures many stepped back in terror,

And with fear for their lives didst this group tremor,

And amazement too for one so small,

Could bring about through such power one to fall.

They bowed and kneeled, subservient now,

And they yet flinched as he furrowed his brow.

"Be this all we have to fight such war?

For if victory we wish we need yet more

To prevail 'gainst Heav'n with such skilless croud,

Wouldst require miracle, which irony must shroud."

A bold one of them forward stepped,

And he stood before the mage as yet intrepid.

Wraith was he, from Death's domain,

And it was this creature that Fate did ordain,

For this one to with irony want life,

And thus did Fate sow yet more strife.

"Be there yet two more teams besides,

And your arrival so coincides,

With their departure for missions abroad.

One went to enemy to sow with fraud,

Other for preparation of our own supplies,

Towards the battle-line quickly flies.

Despite our numbers small,

We are ancient creatures and shall not fall,

For power in us is stirred with hate,

No longer will we play the fool at mercy to fate,

But we shall fight until we draw last breath,

Or else 'till those of Heav'n meet timely death."

Th'Initiate's face lightly touched with smile,

And once more set his heart to defile,

The domain of Heav'n and those within,

Regardless of Original Sin.