Author's note: Obviously I own nothing, but this subject matter has been bothering me for some time and I needed to do something about it.

How noble was he from afar…
A face that never shadows mar…
A voice to heal and fears disbar,
The Lord's most favored Morningstar.

He flew at heights that few could reach,
And led the hosts with sacred speech,
But pride in time would lay him low,
In Sheol where the shadows go…

His eyes were keen, his jaw was strong,
His stance was tall, his feathers long…
His robes of white danced in the winds,
And thunderous were his offered hyms…

Alas one day he went astray,
And as for why, well who can say?
To fall in flames that seared the sky,
And bid stars weep as he hurled by…

Now in the dark he may be seen,
For all the wear his eyes are keen…
How noble was he at the start…

…Before his fate tore fate apart.