Yore there was a seraphim
who spoke of man with blaspheme.
his fathers art did he resent
for his mind was full with malcontent.
he betook to father and quoth, he said:
Father! Dissever there torsos from their heads!
But father gloated his little men
and sent the angel into a pen-
a pen of fire, smoke and ash,
and thereat he was tortured, burned and thrashed.
It was here- yes, here, the ghouls were wrought,
but there souls were twisted and minds were rot.
They poisoned the skies and the world above,
their hearts filled with greed, and barren of love.
Soon the angels life became lore,
passed on for centuries, but nevermore.
For the ghoul dubbed Lilith, soon was raised,
tattered and battered, her intentions unscathed.
She went to the convent, and yes- it was here,
that she slit their throats, from ear to ear.
With the blood on the wall the token she drew,
an upside down cross, with a pentagram too.
The ground shook, and the heavens quaked,
for out of the ground came a black snake.
The snake stood up and turned into a man,
and with one brisk move, people turned and ran.
The snake quoth cunningly; "you shall suffer,
for you are just men, and I am Lucifer."