In realms of light where angels tread,
Lucifer, the Morning Star, shone bright,
His radiance unmatched, a crown upon his head,
But envy stirred, and darkness claimed the night.
With wings of gold and voice of silk,
He led the choir in celestial hymn,
Yet in his heart, a shadow's ilk,
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A prideful spirit, his light grew dim.
"Why must I bow to mortals made of clay?
Why yield to powers lesser than my own?"
He questioned, and thus began his fray,
A rebellion sparked, the seeds were sown.
Once cherished by the Creator's hand,
Now cast away, a fallen prince of night,
He and his kin, a banished band,
Expelled from Heaven's pure and holy light.
To Hell they fell, in fire and pain,
A kingdom wrought of sorrow and despair,
The agony of loss, a constant strain,
Their broken wings, a symbol of their fare.
In the abyss, where shadows dwell,
Lucifer's heart, a furnace of regret,
The echoes of his fall, a tolling bell,
The pain of paradise lost, he can't forget.
He wanders through the realms of woe,
A king without a crown, a god disgraced,
The weight of sin, his endless foe,
In every tear and scar, his fall is traced.
The other angels, too, bear the brunt,
Of pride and wrath that led them to their doom,
In anguished cries and futile hunt,
For redemption in a land devoid of bloom.
Their fiery prison, a testament,
To the folly of their once-great flight,
Their endless pain, a cruel lament,
For beauty lost in the eternal night.
Lucifer's eyes, once filled with light,
Now shadowed by the darkness of his deed,
He rues the day he chose to fight,
And wishes for his soul to be freed.
For even in the heart of Hell,
A spark of sorrow, a glimmer of grace,
A fallen star, who once did dwell,
In Heaven's heart, now seeks a different place.
But redemption is a distant dream,
For fallen angels, cast aside,
Their pain, an endless, bitter stream,
In shadows dark, their tears abide.
So let this tale of woe be told,
Of Lucifer and angels' fall from grace,
A story of pride and pain so cold,
A lesson etched in time and space.

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