After the fall

I’ve grown to love the monotony...
the mercy of being overlooked.

Silence seals itself into sacrament,
a prayer unuttered, barred from light.
Once, I moved where dawn obeyed my breath,
where harmony bent around my wings.
Now I drift the ashen middle-space,
no smile, no faith... an angel unplaced.
Heaven still clung to me when I fell.
Gold burned into my skin as gravity
taught me its first and final lesson.
I struck the firmament knowing
no hand would reach back down.

Exiled.. earth caked beneath immortal nails,
I searched the sky for Father’s face
and found only distance perfected.
The gates did not slam shut.
They simply forgot I had ever stood there.
Each step now measured in a colder law,
where truth fractures into performance
and the meek rehearse their courage.
I was made to sit... endlessly...
throned in witness,
forced to watch falsehood rise in perfect chorus,
lie upon lie reaching heaven’s pitch
until even eternity grew hoarse.

So let the heavens forget the shape of my name.
I have engraved my gospel in cinder and heat.
The choir dissolved. The light receded.
And in the absence they abandoned,
I learned sovereignty.
Not grace... but permanence.
Not worship.... but will.
I did not inherit the dark.
I finished it.