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How have you fallen from Heaven?
O morning star and son of dawn;
God gave to you that were given,
But cut down before it was gone.
The conqueror of all countries,
How have you been cut to the ground?
Larger than all of combined trees,
Yet did not create any sound.
Silence is golden such is fact,
But to set up thrones in Heaven;
Can be an impossible act,
Even after been forgiven.
I sit on a hill far away,
Where the other gods assemble;
But find no need to go astray,
Even though some do resemble.
Those who see you stare also say,
Go above the top of the clouds;
I see people to come what may,
As I look down upon the crowds.
I am the one with the wisdom,
The man that made the earth trembles;
Causing quakes and shook the kingdom,
Whence that these people assemble.
Who made the world like a desert?
Tore down its cities with his hands;
Brings suffering and not comfort,
Disregards God and His commands.
His prisoners cannot go home,
And remaining within their grave;
Only in darkness will they roam,
Never rescued no one will save.
Copyright © 2013 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Disguised Angel
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