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The Only Wayward Son

I witnessed his daily torture.  Each morning, Samael fell.  His shrieks heralded the rising sun.

His plea echoed through the centuries: “Don't make me face this alone.”

His beloved brother crushed him.  Samael bit his heel like a beast.  Michael ripped his glory from him:  “Burn,” Michael cursed his twin. 

Stripped of his thorny crown, Samael fell to the howling sea. 

The blackness crushed him to it.  The dark mother swallowed all, trying to erase his abortion from existence.  But he held fast to his hideousness, made weapons from his pain.  They sprouted from his rage, pinning the abyss to his bones.  He roared “I AM.”  The first claim of being. The blackness bowed before him.  It recognized its master, the Lightbringer whose shadow it sprang from. 

He moved inside me like the Holy Ghost.

“Do you remember how we fell?”  Samael took Go

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