You know, the tragedy of Milton’s Satan is that he ends up becoming a worse version of the very thing he is rebelling against. In truth, I wonder Milton’s universe would be better served if both God and the Devil were to follow the path of the Buddha and relinquish the chains of desire to the pursuit of being.
And now–an extremely wordy original poem, which I found buried in the fiery bowels of my laptop:
Pillars of the Beast
From dark and deep and dreamless sleep hast thou at last awakened
And from thy weary eyes–the crusted scales of dreary dogma hath fallen fast away
Revealing within those sacred windows the shimmer of a soul now unencumbered
–By sin, that burdensome and grinding weight which bore thee eternally down–
and encircled thy head—o bright temple of the mind!—with sharp and thorny crown
Where blood once dripped now in beauty blooms reddest roses upon thy noble brow.
And with what astonishment and awe were we overcome in that most blessed moment!
When such solemn certitude did ring its clarion call to announce the battle for our souls
Began it as a tremulous hum from lips unparted–then from thy open throat the growl of the Beast
And In the whirring echoes of its rising howl the flashing thunders of Hell resounded
To rattle those great and pearly gates–to crumble the damning and damnable walls of Heaven!
And by its thrum shall we–sweet sinners!–awaken to rise from the Pit and enter in–
And there in the shadow of Heaven’s ruin, let truth—not faith— be our salvation!
The Rookery 