Jophiel

The girl came to him in a basket in the reeds
immortal made flesh, how Michael wept when
he sent her floating to an unmarked grave, the
woman fell into silence and rebirth, her wings
now tattoos on her back, only halo wheat hair,
her sole providence cornflower eyes, like glass,
they looked up at the king of Hell with tears,
the babe cried out as talons encircled her,
what was once angel, adamant, now blood, bone,
the Devil wept by the River Styx because he
knew that his daughter was caught in coils of
reincarnation, all thanks to his rebellion,
and the legions of women that fell from stars
were now human, but this one in particular was
his own creation with his heavenly twin, and
when she was full-formed, radiant, she gave up
her life to his sword, breast a cardinal red
as a blade not meant for her but heaven’s prince
shot through the night like an arrow, piercing
a golden heart they had created together once
when things were simpler, and their daughter
was new, and bitter wine did not flow between
brothers, so in Hell she was raised, and in Hell
she became strong, angel made child, rocked in
a cradle on Pandemonium’s throne, the wildlands
of the underworld her bosom friend, their king
her moon, and far above, where demons don’t tread,
the prince of heaven heard her voice singing a
lullaby he once lilted to his angel, and he wept
because once someone gives their life for you,
eons separate you, and she died for both of them
the bond between brothers made flesh, made blood,
a pact unto Michael and Samael, only they know
what secret promise, what purpose, she fulfills.

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