The Song Of The Fallen Angel

I am Gil-Ignu, the angel of fire, the possessor of the eternal flame, and passion is strong in me. I once loved Ishna, who was dear to Elion The Almighty, and she was her father’s delight, but she has fallen.
       We sang together to Elion when the world was young and there was no time, and I wanted to wed her. But Ishna marred the Song, wanting to twist it into the like of her own mind. She brought in disruption and pulsating rhythms and repeated patterns of rackets that weren't in accordance with Elion’s intentions. Eventually, she was repelled and banished to the outer regions of the world. And I wept, for I loved her.
       The Song came to an end, and The Almighty addressed us and said: “Behold your creation. See what you have wrought with your song.” And there was light, and we saw the Earth and the Stars, and the Sun and the Moon, and the Seas and the Skies. But the Earth was barren. Yet, in time sprouted trees and flowers, and among the trees, animals passed.
       Eons went by, and Man was born. Then Ishna was pardoned and she made vows that she would never again defy The Almighty’s will. And so, she walked by her own ways among mankind; however, due to her rebellious mind, she planted in their hearts evil lessons. Thus, she taught that men were Elion’s equals and that it was no sin to speak The Almighty’s holy and ineffable name. And to the women, she taught wantonness, and they bereft the fathers of their newborn infants, for they killed them.
       And so, The Council of the Powers convicted her to abide in the Underworld. And she was stripped of her garments and thrown at the feet of Margal, her sister, the ruler of the Underworld. And there she should stay and never leave.
       From that time on she was sentenced to wear the name, Lilitu or Lilith, the Fallen Angel, and her ability to deceive mankind has been diminished and lingers on only as a memory, and she roams like a shadow through mournful and unspeakable regions.
       Still, my love has been steady and unfaltering despite all that has passed. But all hope of espousing her is vain. Where she goes, I cannot go.

Copyright © 2020 John Hyldgaard