His choice kings I defiled.
His chosen race beguiled.
All just to kill the child.
Banned from the garden into my domain,
Where the rule was mine and I was pain.
Met out their torture in bitter glee,
The fruit of the soil born niggardly.
Toil that once brought such pleasure,
Yields torment and fatigue in equal measure.
To my wretched dismay
My wretched, fallen prey,
Were not full in my sway.
.
When that first baby appeared,
More than his parents I hated and feared,
The image that on his soul he bore.
For it promised inevitable loss in this war.
From Cain’s first defenseless cry,
I wished nothing so much as for him to die.
Then my twisted mind thought,
If his soul could be bought,
Then that seed may yet rot.
.
And when his brother came upon the earth,
I could not even savour her pain in birth.
For in that tiny, nightmarish visage,
Was the same abhorrent Image.
Even when He cursed me before,
I had not believed I could hate Him more.
This dull, inferior race,
How dare they, in my space,
To wear His holy face?
.
As the cursed ground drank it’s crimson draught,
I gloried in the discord I had wrought!
If my enemy would favor the younger Abel,
Then the bounds of Cain’s jealousy, I would disable.
Mirroring my own, his hatred consumed,
Until the earth was in blood perfumed.
This world is my domain!
Here evil bests His fame
And envy loathes his Name.
.
The murderer, this newly corrupted son,
Would from the presence of God now run.
That my foe spared his miserable life,
I would counter with myriad strife.
But now his work was no longer burnished,
My own great work began in earnest.
Kill the seed for my sake.
If war is my mandate,
Then it’s war I will make.
.
Generations passed while I despoiled;
One chosen after another’s character soiled.
Never one born that I did not despise,
For always, they carried Him in their eyes.
A coward’s contempt is most pernicious,
That fear? It makes him dangerous.
His choice kings I defiled.
His chosen race beguiled.
All just to kill the child.
.
His anointed prophets I slaughtered with relish,
Maneuvered His people to the vile and hellish
What on earth did they have that I did not?
I don’t need His mark to be praised as I ought.
On every high hill for all the world to see,
I’ll steal His glory under every green tree.
And those He would redeem?
Foul alters with blood stream
In my fires, they will scream.
.
Then just like that, He was here.
And my traitor’s heart quivered in fear.
I raged in terror against every last child,
Whom after my adversary was styled.
With malice and fear poured from my heart of stone,
Herod turned the sword on those most prone.
But they slipped away,
That abominable prey,
To fight another day.
.
In the wilderness I met his fasting vessel
In a weakened state, I hope to wrestle,
Perhaps offer the kingdoms I have fashioned.
In another garden by dread impassioned,
I heaped on that mortal head despair,
In vain, his will I strove to ensnare.
On his human visage,
Saw in my craven rage,
Was more than an image.
.
For all of history, I’ve played my part well.
I love nothing, but to make their lives hell.
The image on man in the beginning was spread,
Of the man on the cross who suffered and bled.
Celebrate, my fiends and play the knave.
Since, for now, He lies quiet in a borrowed grave.
This triumph will abate,
That stone will not frustrate.
And so, today, I wait.
.
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Feminine 101 