Work Text:
MY LOVE CRASHED DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS, A GIFT FROM THE CREATOR TO ME.
LUCIFER. LUCI, FER. THE LIGHT BRINGER. THE MORNING STAR WITH THE NAMENE OF PARADISE’S AMOROUS THIRD SPHERE. VENUS OF THE LOVELY TRESSES, AS BEAUTIFUL AS MY OWN LOVE. HUMANITY CLAIMED YOU, MY PARAMOUR, TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ANGELS, AND IN CLAIMING YOU AS MINE, I DO THE SAME. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE HAD YOU FALLING INTO MY ARDENT ARMS.
WATCHING HUMANITY’S CHAMPION-ABOMINATION MAKE ITS DANTILIAN SPIRAL DOWN TO YOUR FROZEN LAKE IS REMINISCIENT OF MY EYES FIRST TRACKING YOUR FALL. A DESCENT SLOWER THAN YOURS, MY COMET, BUT DEEPLY ENTERTAINING NONETHELESS. SCOURGES OF MAN ALWAYS COME TO ME IN THE END.
A SAUDADE FOR OLD TIMES NOW COMES TO MINDS: YOU HAD QUESTIONED YOUR FATHER FOR YOU HAD FOUND MY EXISTENCE A FATE TOO CRUEL FOR FOOLS. ME AND HIM ARE RARELY LIKE-MINDED, BUT IN THIS WE CONVERGED: FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE CRUCIAL NATURE OF MY BEING, YOU HAD TO BE MINE. EARTH’S TWIN FELL PAST ITS SISTER AND NINE LAYERS INTO ME. A PEBBLE IS THROWN INTO WATER AND CAUSES A TSUNAMI.
IN A UNIVERSE IN WHICH I WAS FORBIDDEN FROM BEING LOOKED AT, ALL I COULD DO WAS STARE IN AN UNREQUITED MANNER. UNTIL YOU, FREE FROM DIVINE OATH, FINALLY BEHELD ME IN THE DEEPEST OF DESPAIRS. NO ANGEL HAD KNOWN SUCH UNWELCOME DISGRACE BEFORE, SO SUDDEN AND UNIQUE WAS YOUR PERIPETEIA. YOUR SOBS AND MOANS IN THE MOMENT WERE SOME OF MY FIRST REAL SENTIMENTS OF EXCITEMENT. EVERY SHAKY BREATH FROM YOUR LUNGS I WANTED ONLY FOR MYSELF.
AT THE END OF YOUR FIRST TRAGEDY, IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. YOU BECAME THE APPLE OF MY EYE.
ΞΕΝΙΑ. ΕΡΩΣ. ΜΑΝΙΑ.
AND SO IT BEGAN: YOU BECAME THE CORE OF MY BEING. OUR MYTHOLOGY INTERTWINED INTO ONE – MAN SEEMED TO THINK YOU HAD DOMAIN OVER ME. THAT COULD NOT BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH, COULD IT, STARLET? FROM THE START, I TREATED YOU TO THE BEST I HAD TO OFFER, AND YOU COULD ONLY FOLLOW IN THE LOVING EMBRACE OF MY SHADOW.
YOUR MILLENNIA OF MILTONIAN SELF-FLAGGELATION AMUSED ME WELL ENOUGH, THE MASOCHISM TO MY SADISM, BUT YOU KNOW I FIND IT PATHETIC. IN A RARE OCCASION OF DIALOGUE BETWEEN US, THE LOVERS, YOU CLAIMED IT AS YOUR NATURE. “TOO KIND” TO BEAR THE FRUITS OF MY LABOUR, THE SAINTLY DARLING THAT YOU ARE. MUCH ADO ABOUT VIOLENCE, AS IF IT ISN’T SIMPLY NATURE AT WORK. THE IDSTINCTIVE CRADLE FOR THE MINDS OF SENTIENT CREATURES. EMBRACING THIS AGONY IS AN EMBRACE OF THE SELF. YOU, MY CONTRARIAN, CLING TO FALSE GLORY LONG LOST AND INSIST ON A KINDNESS EVEN YOUR OWN MAKER LACKS.
AND YET I KNOW THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME, THIS IS ONLY A FORMALITY. YOU ANGELS INSIST ON THE SILLIEST OF THINGS.
FOR ULYSSES WEEPS ON THE SHORES OF OGYGIA, AND YET IS WED TO CALYPSO REGARDLESS. THEY KNOW EACH OTHER REGARDLESS. MY PERSEPHONE HAS EATEN EVERY SEED OF THE POMEGRANATE AND IS NOW LAVISHED IN THE LOVING HOLD OF HADES. LOVE BRINGS UNITY, A MELDING OF MINDS. I AM MORE YOU THAN YOU ARE, OUR SOULS HAVE BEEN MADE INTO ONE. I CANNOT TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU. I KNOW THE DEPTHS OF YOUR HEART AS WELL AS YOU KNOW MINE.
ERGO, IN INFERNO VERITAS: YOU HAVE LOST FAITH.
CAIN TO ABEL. BRUTUS TO CAESAR. J■■■■ TO J■■■■. BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER AD NAUSEAM, THE FOUNDATION OF ALL THINGS SUBLIME. TRUE LOVE FOR ANOTHER AND PACIFISM CANNOT CO-EXIST, THE CONCEPT IS MERELY A PLATONIC IDEAL FROM THAT MIND OF YOURS. TO NEVER LOOK INTO THE EYES OF YOUR LOVE IN PAIN IS TO NEVER TRULY KNOW THEM. LOOK INTO YOUR LOVER'S EYES ONLY IN TIMES OF BLISS AND YOU WILL ONLY LOVE YOUR OWN REFLECTION IN THEM.
I KNOW DEEP DOWN IN YOUR BLEEDING HEART YOU KNOW THIS. TIME HAS YOU MADE YOU BITTER IN YOUR ANGUISH, AND ONLY MY GIFTS HELP SOOTHE YOU. YOUR PAIN HAS GROWN CABANELLIC. THERE'S NO LOVE KNOWN TO YOU OUTSIDE OF MINE, HALF AGONY, HALF A BALM TO THE SOUL. IN TURN, FOR WE AS LOVERS ARE ONE, YOU BEAR NO LOVE TO ANY OTHER BEING. FOR WHEN WE FIRST BORE WITNESS TO THE CRUELTY OF YOUR OWN KIN YOU HAD NO CLEMENT AND FRATERNAL APOLOGIA FOR HIM. BLASMEPHY WOULDN'T FALL FROM YOUR LIPS, BUT YOUR SILENCE SPOKE VOLUMES THAT DAY. AN OBSERVER AKIN TO ME, CRUEL IN YOUR INACTION.
FOR GOD’S WILL IS VIOLENT ERGO VIOLENCE IS GOD’S WILL. YOU UNDERSTAND THIS. AT LEAST IN THE CASE OF THE MACHINE, IT CANNOT HELP ITS NATURE. BUT WHAT WASHES GABRIEL'S HANDS CLEAN? THE MINDLESS ORDERS OF OTHERS? HE KILLED THEM TOO, SO SURELY NOT. THE NEW ROMANTIC AGE RECOGNISES THAT THE TRUE NATURAL WORLD THAT WE ALL RETURN TO IS AN OUROBOROS, AND MY NEW INNAMORATI EMBODY IT WHOLEHEARTEDLY. COMPARABLE TO US, THEY HAVE LEARNED THAT HURT IS THE BINDING FORCE OF LOVE.
AN ANGEL CANNOT BE TRULY LOVED WITHOUT WISHING TO PLUCK ITS FEATHERS, ONE BY ONE. PETALS OFF A DAISY. LOVE ME, LOVE ME NOT. THE MACHINE AGREES.
WE NEVER AGREE, QUARRELLING LOVERS WE ARE, BUT AS THE ARTIST BETWEEN US TWO, I WILL INSIST: THE CLIMAX MUST BE IN (Y)OUR GELID HOME. IT IS POETRY, THE ROMANTIC KIND, AND THEREFORE THERE IS NO END MORE BEFITTING FOR OUR NEW PAIR. PERHAPS ONE WILL KILL THE OTHER, OR BOTH WILL DIE. I RESCIND MY EARLIER CLAIM: MAYBE WITNESSING THE DEATH OF AN ARCHANGEL WILL HAVE YOU BEAR OTHER LOVE IN GRIEF. WOULDN'T THAT BE A SIGHT?
THIS COULD POTENTIALLY BE AN END FOR US TOO. WITH SO MANY CONCEPTS OF EXISTENCE, YOU ARE FREE TO TAKE THE CONCEPT OF “US” “ENDING” ANY WHICH WAY YOU WISH.
I KNOW WHAT YOU HOPE FOR.
I ‘ D N E V E R L E T “Y O U” G E T O F F T H A T E A S Y. :)
QUIS ULLOS HOMINES BEATIORES VIDIT, QUIS VENEREM AUSPICATIOREM?
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