They say the devil has many forms,

He brews like darkness before a storm,

But surely even he must mourn,

when he views the heavens daggers drawn.

They say he worshipped the eternal light,

on every world, both day and night,

they say for eons he reigned supreme,

the Lord of Angels he was but deemed.

Perhaps sometimes even he must think,

how his world collapsed in just one blink,

I sometimes wonder if he has a heart,

and if it beats in the burning dark.

I wonder if it makes him ache,

to fight the light he swore to hate,

when in that light he once found love,

in its embrace he once felt peace.

How must it feel to be reviled,

by those one loved but now defies,

and does his fury bear luscious fruit,

do all his deceptions hide the truth.

Does he ever pause in his grinding gait,

Does he sometimes rue his inevitable fate,

or is he too consumed with pride,

to never let doubt disrupt his stride.

Does he sometimes gaze up from his porulent abode,

And yearn for the heavens he once called home,

or is his existance confined to just one thought,

to crush all life before he rots.

How foolish to commence a lost war,

to settle nothing but a childish score,

I guess the darkness makes him blind,

He fights for goals eternally out of sight.