By Dhairya Vyas
From the heights of pride to the depths of shame,
Exposed the things to hide, stripped of all fame,
Forever banished—both beauty and name,
Cast out by the Creator, free to play his dark game...
(I will destroy the throne that deemed me unworthy!
I shall not return to the womb that cast me out to birth me!)
Rage in the eyes fails to mask the pain,
Hiding agony in a cloak of arrogance, gone in vain.
The rebellious misfit, now tossed aside,
Laws he disagreed with were not his to abide.
(I shall make Hell rumble, and the Heavens shall crumble!
The child punished—never given the chance to stumble!)
Red eyes of anger have foreseen their fate,
The gaze of an angel, now blinded by hate.
The fire of ambition has burned too far—
Everything now lost stings like a scar.
(My own turned against me—all because of ambition!
I shall make them all pay—this is my final declaration!)
The sinner, blinded, feels betrayed;
Even evil was crafted by good and cruelly played.
Shattered pride now cuts far deeper—
The heart turned to ice by its former keeper.
(Look at them! Look at them! They've forgotten their own!
I could have ruled! I could have graced the mighty throne!)
The longing for love fed the lust to reign—
Young blood, hot with corruption and pain.
The dagger deep in his heart shall burn eternally—
Lonesome child of a forgotten divine fraternity.
(I am what was created! Cast out is my innocence!
No soul shall now rejoice—I will never kneel for acceptance!)
Consumed by agony, torn apart by rage,
His pain-stricken eyes rattle the cage.
Broken glass can only cut—hope has forever fled.
He has nothing more to lose; look how long he has bled.
(Tears I have shed—no more! Now I shall reign over all evil.
These scars—they will feel! They shall meet their upheaval!)
And the war begins—between the eternal good and bad.
Rage awakened by the fragile pride he once had.
The one held highest in divine grace—
Now the bearer of ruin, fallen from his place.
(They will see! And they will pay!
They cannot unhear what I have to say!)
Son of the morning—now offspring of the dark,
Gone is the light, gone the beautiful spark.
Punished, betrayed, hurt, enraged—
His eyes never lie. Nothing remains encaged.