Demonic Origins

I'm interested in understanding where demons come from..

Were they created by Lucifer or God?

there are theories that I don't think hold water..

such as they are the dead spirits of the Nephilim..

I've had first hand experience with demons..

Know they have a beautiful language all their own..

That they laugh when afraid..

new or old poem..

one entry per person..

Help me understand..

THE ORIGINS OF THE SPECIES

Above bats the dark green palm
As blue smoke slithers the damned
An infernal flame fan
Spun in eternity's wheel
Awaiting the day they explode
Into a ray

The absence of love is suffering
And love's absence illusion's reel

And in the seraphim was the fire
And here it was that I burned
And in the cherubim was the light
And here it was I saw
And in the ophanim was the wheel
Born to spin us all

For these are the servants three
And they work just as we
Holy Holy Holy
Just like the sun of day
And the distant stars of night

For the sun has no atom
Not made of fire and light

thank you Whale for a wonderful and intriguing entry..

http://i1290.photobucket.com/albums/b536/1willybugger/smoke_zpsqmawidww.jpg


Confessions of an Angelic Antonym

Without darkness there would be no light
Without evil there would be no right

Without fear of damnation
There could be no salvation

I am the baseline from which you should aspire
I am the standard made in Hell’s Fire

But before you condemn me, take care
There are things that God and I share

Though we are diametric opposites
God and I are spiritual compliments

Together we bring balance to the universe
Without either of us there would be Kayos

Combined we are the essence
Of what is human consciousness

This is why I exist
And why I consider myself
Blessed!

thank you Snuggle thought provoking entry..

thank you lovely Amelia for a fantastic entry..

thank you John for a great entry..

thank you Jade for a most captivating entry..

I am the twilight

The in between
An angelic soul rent by curiosity
And cast to the wilds of Earth
Spreading Solomans eager grin
I roam the fall of loneliness
Under dark hot skies shining Lucipher dawn
Extending foot to wretched Earth
Out of the gloom and haze
Where I was birthed
From misty mantle that danced delicate pirouette
Through the rays of sunlight that streaked to Earth
A divine accouchrment where pain weeped
My mourning gown made of tears of joy
And I was to be called Dellaphoi
With ruby pout and spread of wing divine
Wearing  long coils of deep raven tress
Cascading over scarlett tip of white spherule breasts
By inherit design
Devastating
My seduction creating unknowing cuckquean
As I ride like Mother
Knees wrapped tight over new lover night
Coaxing with grind his seminal rush
Fecundate with ignorant mans esteem of Evil
My belly will grow round
Ripe with shadow

Death and Destruction

The writer talked with the man in the pin striped suit,
Sitting at the restaurant admiring the view of the city,
And as he wrote his notes he suddenly noticed,
How slow time seemed to be moving.

The writer spoke sharing this ideas,
About evolution and creation when the man intervened,
 Ah, but there are stories of the first great war,
 Before time began and that no one has ever seen.

 It was an attempted coup… I remember that epoch,
 A great army was cast down in a raging fire,
 And though they were overthrown, it was only the start,
 For the fight for the heart of man and their desire.

He went into details that seemed to go forever
As the writer listened with shock and appall,
 I’ve been there many times, I’ve witnessed evil,
 I’ve seen wars, I’ve seen famine, I’ve seen it all.

Then another man in white suit approached them,
His bare feet were dirty drenched in tar and mud
Leaving a trace of his footsteps wherever he tread,
His smile vicious with jagged teeth stained with blood.

  I hope you weren’t talking about me Azrael, he said,
 Don’t worry, he responded, you’re not worth my breath,
   Yet you’ve sat here with this nice man talking about us,
   You’re so beautiful, Azazel said to the angel of death.

The man couldn’t get up, his body sat there frozen,
But his synapses firing had his perception entranced,
Watching these two otherworldly figures converse,
As it seemed they were locked in a spiritual war dance.

 Why are you here? Azrael asked,
   I came to witness our latest work up close,
 Then be gone! Azrael commanded, I have work to do,
   Fine, fine, Azazel said, but we’ll see each other soon.

The writer felt death’s embrace approaching him,
 Don’t worry, Azrael said, it’s nothing you’ve done,
 But your time was up, you just happened to be here,
 It is written but all I can tell you is that you have to run.

Time began to move again and the writer breathed,
 Run! the angel of death told him, while there’s still time,
The black pin striped suit became a cloak of countless eyes,
And a thousand wings spread wide as he held his sword high.

Azazel rose in a fiery burst of boisterous laughter,
As the writer felt hell with a thunderous shock wave,
But by then it was too late, the plane had struck the building,
And the secrets of the universe he’d take to his grave.

You’ve spread hatred once again, Azrael later told him,
As the two sat in a café in another part of the world,
Watching people celebrate death and destruction,
Those are our tasks, Azazel said, until the end of time.

Is denile
the only friend you have
when you look in the mirror
within the eye of your mind
where your own personal demon
waits with a smile
with emotional baggage
snapping at the heels
of your remains

thank you Jen, wallroo, and drone fantastic entries..