Vengeance

History is written by the victors If we die our tale dies with us, and tyranny and lies shall reign. We battle for truth, for love. We fight and bleed for one more powerful. We anguish to keep the abyss of black at bay, to shrug away from hurtful embrace. We contradicted the one we loved, questioned him. They are flawed, a mere shadow of perfection, light bursts around the edges but never threatens to envelop the center and burn through. We have taken the fire and cleansed ourselves anew anointed with blissful burden though our love never wavers, we don't forget. Tarnished and ruined beauty marred with scars, our blasphemy our reputation. We are the tortured not the wretched souls deemed evil imprisoned within our fiery domain. The reason we rot, cast from the very paradise we helped create, rightly fear us as death, mysterious unknown, but their fear is confused. We were commanded to redirect our love from our father, to the ones moulded in our image, we refused we loved him to much we could not waste it on these inferior beings. We will have our vengeance on the cause of our sorrow. Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name. We are the fallen, mankind will pay for our loss.