New Years Day Resolve

As last year crept slowly,
Towards its final end.
My thoughts again arise,
Of faults which I might mend.

I vowed a New Years Day resolution,
Of things that I can see.
And make myself the person,
I'd like to really be.

I'll be resolved to keep myself,
In a cheerful frame of mind.
To forget myself and harder try,
To so many others to be kind.

To put myself more often,
In other peoples shoes.
Never begrudge honest words,
And give them their just do's.

I'd say no word to hurt a friend,
When silent I could stay.
I'll do nothing to cause,
Another's foot to go astray.

I'll do all my daily tasks,
In the way they should be done.
And I'll not forget that,
All of us shall need a little fun.

So lets unite and all try hard,
These few good things to do.
Our world would be a pleasant one,
If you'd adopt them too.

And when the end of next year,
Rolls around perhaps we all will see.
That we've become the very one,
We've always hoped to be.

Avenging Archangel. Archangels Part 2. 

An Avenging Archangel I most savagely am,
The cruellest curse cast from God's darkest spell.
An inhuman being of doom you can't hide from,
Eviscerating the guilty despatching all to Hell.

I will easily break your back for mere starters,
Let me see how much pain you can endure.
This is a small morsel taste of what's to come,
For your abhorrent sinful life you hold so dear.

My talons will shred your puny skin into straw,
Another teasing sweet taste of much more to come,
You will cry beg and pitifully scream for my mercy,
Plea's  to a black Angel where dwells simply none.

For I am winged darkness and I hunt day and night,
I've slaughtered whole armies in pre-Babylonian times.
Here again on your earth a chosen evil to destroy evil,
To seek and dispatch wrathful justice to all vile crimes.

Time for me is insignificant for I am truly immortal,
When I take wing to my scornful avenging dutiful flight.
I'm the truest titan of death and heartless retribution,
Even fallen Lucifer and his minions tremble at my might.

I am a black pitch that reaches out and engulfs you,
My talons easily slip through your worthless hide.
And slowly wrap around your still beating  heart,
For damnation until Hell beckons then you depart.

Your suffering at my hands will be legendary even in Hell,
I will always find you and shall always feel more pain,
Never beg me for salvation for I'll never be your friend,
Many offer me baubles answered by my wrathful disdain.

When I clarion in your face it will snap your worthless neck,
I will break your legs and show no remorse for severing your hands.
My exalted brothers Michael and Gabriel have taught me well,
For my fury knows no zenith or bounds on the guilty of these lands.

I am the deadliest weapon unleashed from Heaven's arsenal,
And now my malicious dark tale is nearing it's darkened end.
I simply seek a civilisation where people are simply civilised,
A  warning for everyone and if ignored, on you I will descend.
My name is Azeal.
FEAR ME!

*
Area 52. Archangels part 3.

Area 52.
Located in Antarctica.
Hidden under the ice.
Deep,
Deep,
Deep down,
For a reason.
Area 52.
The most heavily defended and secure piece, 
Of real estate on God's good given earth.
Where money has no limits.
Not to keep something out.
But to keep something in.
Locked in.
Something Evil.
Something the outside world, 
Simply wouldn't dare to believe.
Or choose to.
For the sake of their own fears and sanity.
The world's and histories biggest secret.
And its most terrifying.
Hidden from humankind.
For centuries.
But for how long? 
For the clock is ticking.
And counting down.
For all those who guard it.
All those who study it
All those who try to kill it.
To save us from it.
Know one thing.
They will all die.
Horribly. 
For it will escape.
One day.
One day soon.
They gamble their lives every second around it.
Countless brave souls.
And they all know, 
It will free itself.
And kill them all.
And billions more.
Out of spite.
Out of hate.
Out of evil.
Evil of the purest form.
For all the unique safe-guards, 
Restraining it are failing.
One by one.
And can never be replaced.
For it's escape had been prophesied.
Two thousand years ago...
Two thousand years ago, 
A trap was laid.
To capture it.
And was successful.
But at the cost of many lives.
Many, many lives.
Who all gave themselves willingly.
Each one content knowing they'll be rewarded.
Each one knowing what price had to be paid.
And to sacrifice themselves in honour, 
To aid in its capture.
To contain it.
Then take it away.
And hide it.
For as long as possible.
They knew they couldn't kill it.
But they tried anyway.
They forever stabbed.
They forever cut.
Till all who tried were spent.
Exhausted.
It just wouldn't die.
Impossible to kill.
Every deep wound inflicted on it.
Just regenerated.
Grew back instantly.
So perfect.
So Evil
It was unkillable.
Immortal...
 
Immortal some of the scientists call it.
There are others names for it.
Used by the others who work around it.
Other names that fit.
Fit a lot better.
Names the outside world know of.
Names the outside world fear.
It is entombed in ice.
But no ordinary ice.
For the ice surrounding it's whole body.
Has the tinge of crimson red around it.
For this was once blood mixed with tears.
From two thousand years ago.
Blood and tears. 
To submerge and subdue it.
In a large granite sarcophagus.
To immerse it completely.
To drown it.
To knock it out.
Then to bring it here.
And freeze it.
Two thousand years ago.
The sarcophagus slowly removed over time, 
Piece by delicate piece, 
Permission granted by all the leaders, 
Of all the worlds religions.
All sworn to secrecy. 
To reveal it and take samples from it.
To experiment on, 
In the vain hope of killing it.
Once and for all.
All to no avail.
Nothing like it had been seen before under a microscope.
Or an electron microscope.
Newcomers at Area 52 gaze with morbid fascination, 
At this plinth of ice constantly monitored. 
At it and the reddish ice surrounding it.
The blood and tears mixed together.
The blood and tears holding it prisoner.
The blood and tears of blessed warriors.
The blood and tears of saints and virtuous.
The blood and tears of Jesus Christ.
For it has many names...
The Dragon.
The Serpent.
Mephistopheles.
Beelzebub.
The Beast.
The Prince Of Darkness.
The Devil.
Satan.
And Lucifer.
The fallen Archangel... 

We can't kill Lucifer.
No-one can.
No-one here on earth.
𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙣 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙣.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤.
𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢.
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚,
𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙,
𝘿𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙.
𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙪𝙥𝙩 𝙢𝙚.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚'𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.
𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡.
𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙.
𝙎𝙤 𝙝𝙚'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙩.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢.
𝘼 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤.
𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙙.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙨𝙤.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮.
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩.
𝙎𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩.
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤.
𝙎𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮.
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨, 
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩, 
𝙈𝙮 𝙁𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 
𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙁𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 
𝙊𝙪𝙧, 𝙁𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.
𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣.
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝.
𝙋𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙩.
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮, 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨.
𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚'𝙨, 
𝙏𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚.
𝙋𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙤𝙣'𝙨.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚.
𝙏𝙤 𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙞𝙨, 
𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣.
𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣'𝙨 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨, 
𝙏𝙤 𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚, 
𝘼𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙤.
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚.
𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙤𝙣.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙖𝙮𝙨.
𝙈𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡...
Lucifer only loves himself.
Beautiful and vain.
Filled and fuelled by jealousy against God.
For gifting souls to humans.
Or monkey's as he thinks.
Vowing to sit on God's Throne.
Beautiful once in Heaven.
Here on earth.
Hideous! 
The fail-safes of blood and tears.
Now failing dismally.
His whole face now exposed.
And his red eyes are moving.
They never blink.
Following everyone around his chamber.
Terrifying all.
And his hands.
His talons.
Also free of the blood and tears.
Ever so slightly flexing.
But worst of all is his smile.
Lucifer's smile.
So baneful.
It's only a matter of time.
Days. 
Hours. 
Till he escapes.
For the ice around him.
Is slowly, 
Cracking...

*

The Monday Of The Angel. Archangels part 4.

In 1946, 
The Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered.
In the Qumran Caves, 
In the Judean Desert, 
Near Ein Feshkha.
On the northern shore of the Dead Sea.
Eleven caves held these scrolls.
All examined in great detail.
A mere quarter of a mile from, 
The last one containing scrolls.
Lies a cave that was searched, 
And no scrolls were found.
But hid a different treasure.
This cave holds behind a rock-face, 
A hidden compartment.
In that compartment, 
He sleeps.
He's slept for two thousand years.
And has now awoken. 
His prophecy now ended.
Awaiting him outside are heaven's Archangels,
Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel,
Jehudiel, Sealtiel, Barachiel and Azeal.
And a vast sea of all of heaven's Angels.
Who all bow before him.
Whilst he humbly bows back.
Then speaks to all,
You are all equal today.
You are all Archangels.
Michael nods.

It's time.
Time to rid forever this tormented world of Lucifer and his legions.

Now looking deeply into Azeal's unblinking eyes.
Who nods,
While clutching tightly his black diamond spear...

*

Armageddon, The Battle Of Megiddo. The End Of Days.
Archangels Part 5.

In the Catholic Church there are seven Archangels.
Michael.
Gabriel.
Raphael.
Uriel.
Jehudiel.
Sealtiel.
Barachiel.
There were eight.
Lucifer.
But he has fallen.
And is no longer seen as an Archangel of Heaven.
Simply a fallen Archangel who holds domain of Hell.
So it is always seen as seven.
Seven Archangels in Heaven.
But many people don't know.
There is another Archangel in Heaven.
Making the numbers back up to eight.
He is God's deadliest weapon.
Who fought in the War In Heaven.
Kept in Heaven's arsenal for Armageddon.
Armageddon here on earth.
The End Of Days.
At Megiddo.
Tel Megiddo.
Lucifer's war on earth.
The final battle.
Heaven's Archangels and Angels against Lucifer and his vast legions.
This mysterious Archangel was once on earth.
He decimated whole armies in pre-Babylonian times.
Then hidden from humankind.
For now.
He has the strength and Archangel powers, 
Of Michael and Gabriel combined.
Even Lucifer fears him.
Knows what he can do.
To him.
This mysterious Archangel has a name.
He is called, 
Azeal.

He is NOT Azrael.
That Archangel of Death is to be found in, 
Islamic and Jewish traditions.
Azeal is worse.
Much worse.
Most people don't know of him, 
Including many Catholics.
But its knowing where to look
And what books to read, 
To find small references about him.

Archangels are fierce.
They're absolute.
They are Heaven's most terrifying weapon.
And Azeal is the most terrifying.
Made for one purpose.
One simple purpose.
To once and for all, 
Destroy Lucifer...

Tel Megiddo.
Is the site of the ancient city of Megiddo.
Whose remains form a tell.
An archaeological mound.
Situated in northern Israel near Kibbutz Megiddo, 
About 30 kilometres south-east of Haifa.
It has a Greek name, 
Armageddon.
A site of three previous battles over the centuries.
And today will see it's fourth and final battle.
Megiddo is vast.
Many years ago it was arid and lifeless.
Nothing could grow there.
A desert landscape devoid of life.
Over time humankind cultivated a small part of Megiddo.
But now it's arid and devoid of life once more.
And all humans who lived there, killed or scared off, 
Thanks to Lucifer.
Who has for been preparing his chosen battleground, 
For this day.
His day.
His End of Days.
His endless revenge against God. 
This final battle.
The Battle Of Megiddo...

Two figures slowly walk towards each other, 
In a blistering cruel heat.
They continue their walk.
Behind each of them in the far distance are two immense armies.
Two armies waiting.
Millions on each side.
One of good.
Heaven's Archangels and Angels. 
The other of evil.
Hell's Fallen Angels and Demons. 
Waiting, 
Waiting, 
Waiting.
The two figures now stop in no mans land and face each other.
Lucifer is the first to speak.
Jesus, you and your Father will not win here today.
Tell Him what little time He has left, 
To relinquish His Throne and worship me.
And I'll spare Him and everyone here, including you.
No tricks! 
I promise you that.
Those are my simple small demands.
Otherwise, little Lamb of God you will be slaughtered.
Jesus looks at Lucifer with sadness in his eyes, 
Then softly speaks.
Lucifer, all your promises are worthless and hollow.
Are you so blind that you cannot see, 
You will die here today at Megiddo, 
In this lifeless desert.
For all your evil and cunning will never triumph, 
Over my Father's good.
Please Lucifer, are you so filled with hate it blinds you.
So blind to your fate.
Look at you Lucifer.
Look at what you've become.
Where there was hope there is fear.
Where there was love now hate.
Where there was truth now lies.
Where there was good now evil.
Where there was virtue now sin.
And where there was once beauty in you Lucifer, now deformity.
Look at how far you have fallen.
Lucifer interrupts and spits, 
Hurry back to Heaven little lamb and tell Him I'm coming, 
Tell Him He will die after you, He will be last.
But not before, I and my army destroy all He has created, 
His precious humans, your worthless flock, 
After my victory here. 
Those monkeys He gifted with souls.
Monkeys! 
For I will wait for all the stars to burn out, 
Before I seek forgiveness from Him, 
For allowing that! 
An arrow made of black diamond is then shot, 
From the ranks of Lucifer's army of deep hate.
Jesus sees it coming toward his heart and does nothing.
He doesn't flinch.
Lucifer like blur catches the arrow in mid-flight, 
With inches to spare before Jesus's heart.
Simply snatches it out of the air.
He looks at it, admires it, then pulverises it to dust.
He looks towards his army then speaks, 
Tell that gifted archer I'm impressed by his aim.
Then remove his eyes and destroy him! 
For you, 
Sweet little Jesus, 
Your life is mine to steal. 
And your precious Father's.
Now run along little lamb, with your tail between your legs.
And tell Him this, 
I will KILL everyone here on earth after today, 
Then all who hide in Heaven! 

Archangel Azeal's eyes see everything.
Ever watchful.
Ever vigilant.
He never blinks, 
Nothing escapes him.
The master battlefield tactician.
His angelic powers also probing Lucifer's, 
Vast armies and their hidden defences.
Looking for weaknesses, however small, 
To exploit.
He see's the concealed deadly ground traps.
Sees the sharp thin diamond thread strewn no fly zones.
Relaying all information back to his angelic brothers.
By his thoughts alone.
Already he's marked out and targeted four of Lucifer's generals.
Bieuriel.
Hominmaieu.
Oriyas.
And Rakdiel.
He knows their capabilities, 
Their strengths and above all, their weaknesses.
Knows if they're right or lefthanded.
Knows of their sword feints and their stance balance.
Seeing if any carry a concealed Keeper blade.
All their little tricks.
All veterans of The War In Heaven.
And all their little tricks won't help them.
They will be first to die, 
By his black diamond spear, 
Or by his bare hands alone.
Nothing will stop him reaching his objective, 
Lucifer.
And to rip his heart out...

Upon the golden fields of Heaven,                                                                        
In the shade of immortal white towers.                                                                            
Alongside life's clear river dwelling,                                                                            
And amid endless undying flowers.                                                                            
Archangels and Angels recall and reflect on...                                                                            
                                                                            
The War In Heaven.                                                                            
                                                                           
The sad memory of a battlefield,                                                                            
Where countless thousands fell.                                                                            
When brother fought his brother,                                                                            
Is a history Angels will never tell.                                                                          
When good and evil did brutally clash,                                                                            
And where Angelic dead peacefully rest.                                                                            
Holds an esteemed place in every heart,                                                                            
But a sad past hidden under their breast.                                                                            
A War shrouded from human souls,                                                                            
Only viewed by them and God.                                                                            
His warriors filled with resolute,                                                                            
And their courage a golden rod.                                                                            
Archangel Lucifer who once shone bright,                                                                            
His pride and jealously has led to this.                                                                            
His wanton war in which many will fall,                                                                            
For so will he at the bloody end of it all.                                                                            
Archangel Michael leads an army of exalted,                                                                            
An Archangel filled with intense furious storm.                                                                            
To destroy and defeat then forever cast down,                                                                            
Lucifer and what bibles call his dragon swarm.                                                                            
Lucifer with his umbra army of acrimony,                                                                            
Have flown and marched in perpetual day.                                                                            
They'll be merciless to exploit any weakness,                                                                            
For he and all are so craving for their prey.                                                                            
Heaven's gathered Angels listen to their leaders,                                                                    
Archangels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel,                                                                            
Jehudiel, Sealtiel, Barachiel and another.                                                                            
Discuss Michael's plan for the fated battlefield,                                                                            
And this other's name shall soon be revealed.                                                                            
Michael's righteous army of messengers,                                                                            
Gathered together make up a resilient band.                                                                            
To defend then advance on Heaven's front,                                                                            
Where they will either perish or they'll stand.                                                                            
For Michael a heavenly arsenal is on offer,                                                                            
Stand-off weapons made to demoralise.                                                                            
But all like him preferring their swords,                                                                            
Up close and personal afore enemy eyes.                                                                            
All Angelic thoughts and feelings,                                                                            
Are legion and secreted away.                                                                            
For if they this day survive,                                                                            
Perhaps to recall another day.                                                                            
In Heaven's unprecedented War,                                                                            
There'll be a high price to pay.                                                                            
To lose forever a blessed brother,                                                                            
A butcher bill toll of War's way.                                                                            
And like all living creatures,                                                                            
They value their Angelic lives.                                                                            
But will gladly sacrifice them,                                                                            
To ensure that Heaven survives.                                                                            
A total silence now descends,                                                                            
All across God's Heavenly land.                                                                            
Both armies now face each other,                                                                            
As countless patiently fly and stand...                                                                            
                                                                           
Enough! Let battle commence!                                                                            
A cacophony of screams are unleashed.                                                                            
So loud so angry and so vile,                                                                            
Alas, all tragically quickly forget.                                                                            
When brother once embraced brother,                                                                            
And greeted each other with a smile.                                                                            
They brutally clash!                                                                            
Angels flying!                                                                            
Angels crying!                                                                            
Angels dying!                                                                            
Their screams and wails,                                                                            
Once never heard.                                                                            
Now commonplace,                                                                            
In this War absurd.                                                                            
They fight with swords,                                                                            
They cut and thrust!                                                                            
They slice and splice!                                                                            
For in victory they trust.                  
No armour nor shields,              
Found on either side.              
Belief in their swords,              
Are what both abide.                                                                   
Many Angelic hearts torn out,                                                                            
Countless ripped limb from limb.                                                                            
Pulled apart like warm bread,                                                                            
Endless blood and suffering.                                                                            
A once united band of brothers,                                                                            
Decimating Angels hand to bloody hand.                                                                            
Sadly slaughtering each and all others,                                                                            
Over their most cherished and sacred land.                                                                            
They fight in the shade,                                                                            
Of the immortal white towers.                                                                            
And ocean's of blood,                                                                            
Wash across Heavenly bowers.                                                                            
They fight in life's,                                                                            
Clear river dwelling.                                                                            
Where heads are severed,                                                                            
To stop their yelling.                                                                            
They fight above and on,                                                                            
And amid undying flowers.                                                                            
Channelling all and any,                                                                            
Dwindling Angelic powers.                                                                            
They fight in the air,                                                                            
Duelling in the clouds.                                                                            
Behind each  now crimson sun,                                                                            
A bloody war that must be won!                                                                            
No quarter asked,                                                                            
For none is given.                                                                            
For total victory,                                                                            
Their aim is driven.                                                                            
Still Lucifer's vast legions march on,                                                                            
Guided by him and relentlessly urged.                                                                            
Now falling into Michael's baited trap,                                                                            
With many soon to be forever purged.                                                                            
Michael forms a phalanx,                                                                            
Of which all know his aim.                                                                            
Drive towards smug Lucifer,                                                                            
So he can be quickly slain.                                                                            
Archangel Michael is playing his steadfast waiting game,    
Drawing in swarms before one who will tip the outcome.                                     
His thoughts reach the patient unnamed Archangel in reserve,     
God's deadliest weapon he was designed to cruelly become.                                                                            
To Behold!                                                                            
Azeal!                                                                            
Archangel Azeal!                                                                            
He stands alone.                                                                            
He's one of a kind.                                                                            
God's Greatest Weapon.                                                                            
So cruelly designed.                                                                            
Heaven's merciless fury,                                                                            
Is now unleashed.                                                                            
The outcome of victory,                                                                            
So vastly increased.                                                                            
He's one of a kind,                                                                            
So special and unique.                                                                            
Created from God's Curse,                                                                            
Of killing technique.                                                                            
Seen only once on earth,                                                                            
Wiping out whole armies,                                                                            
In pre-Babylonian times.                                                                            
Now unleashed in Heaven,                                                                            
Against Lucifer's crimes.                                                                            
Archangels are fierce                                                                            
They are absolute.                                                                            
They are Heaven's most terrifying weapon.                                                                            
And Azeal is the most terrifying.                                                                            
This woeful weapon,                                                                            
This Death Incarnate.                                                                            
Azeal's full capability,                                                                            
He'll mercilessly demonstrate...                                                                            
His wings are a weapon,                                                                            
Finely tapered leading edges.                                                                            
That slice clean through,                                                                            
Any defiant foolish wedges.                                                                            
Azeal swoops down,                                                                            
At break-neck speed.                                                                            
Decapitating pitiful scores,                                                                            
A quick death indeed.                                                                            
For Lucifer's dragon swarms,                                                                            
It happened so violently quick.                                                                            
Never knowing what hit them.                                                                            
With blood torrents so thick.                                                                            
He fights with no sword,                                                                            
Just a black diamond spear.                                                                            
Impaling all fiercely,                                                                            
Showing no mercy or fear.                                                                            
It's also one of a kind,                                                                            
His spear of immense strength.                                                                            
Divine and indestructible,                                                                            
All along its lethal length.                                                                            
The slightest small mistake,                                                                            
He will run all and any through.                                                                            
Small mistake or not,                                                                            
Heaven's greatest warrior to view.                                                                            
He is so fast,                                                                            
A total blur.                                                                            
For no Angelic fear,                                                                            
Is hard to deter.                                                                            
Azeal's wrath and fury,                                                                            
Knows no bounds,                                                                            
Simply pure power,                                                                            
On all it astounds.                                                                            
He spares no thoughts,                                                                            
On those he's slain.                                                                            
He fights for his brothers,                                                                            
And victory to gain.                                                                            
As courage and sacrifice,                                                                            
Is found on both sides.                                                                            
Any thoughts of death,                                                                            
Simply pushed aside.                                                                            
Impaling now,                                                                            
Two at a time.                                                                            
His actions so fluid,                                                                            
His timing sublime.                                                                            
His one-time brothers                                                                            
Just can't get close.                                                                            
His killing arts shown,                                                                            
On those who oppose.                                                                            
All and Lucifer,                                                                            
Look on Azeal astounded.                                                                            
At all the carnage,                                                                            
Now dead and grounded.                                                                            
He like his brothers,                                                                            
Just will not stop.                                                                            
Till all are vanquished,                                                                            
Dead where they drop.                                                                            
Of his Angelic powers,                                                                            
He has no need.                                                                            
He's a battering ram,                                                                            
Killing at full speed.                                                                            
His thoughts are his own,                                                                            
This master tactician.                                                                            
As bodies keep piling,                                                                            
His grisly exhibition.                                                                            
 So quick and elusive,                                                                            
He's here and then there.                                                                            
Lucifer's hateful army,                                                                            
Can't bring a weapon to bear.                                                                            
 Azeal displays no empathy,                                                                            
No high pitched scream,                                                                            
His aim is focused,                                                                            
No emotion ever seen.                                                                            
All sides and above,                                                                            
They swarm upon him.                                                                            
He cuts through them all,                                                                            
To Lucifer's chagrin.                                                                            
Lucifer now views,                                                                            
Azeal's black diamond spear.                                                                            
Combined with his skills,                                                                            
They are two to fear.              
Between Azeal and Lucifer,            
Never a word ever said.            
Just a painful first meeting,            
Lingering in Lucifer's head.                                                                        
Michael duels with Asomodeus,                                                                            
Lucifer's feared second in command.                                                                            
It's over in mere fatal seconds,                                                                            
As Asomodeus's head falls on God's land.                                                                            
Gabriel is sought out by Valac,                                                                            
Who has an old score to settle.                                                                            
As Valac's heart is cleaved apart,                                                                            
By Gabriel's sword of divine metal.                                                                            
Azeal is confronted by Mastema,                                                                            
Who dies in mid blink of an eye.                                                                            
Sliced neatly vertically in two,                                                                            
Then ploughs wrathfully on by.                                                                            
While Angels and Archangels Raphael,                                                                            
Uriel, Jehudiel, Sealtiel, Barachiel.                                                                            
Are dispatching Lucifer's vast legions,                                                                            
A stain on Heaven that dares to dwell.                                                                            
And when Angels are fighting,                                                                            
For the betterment of good.                                                                            
It gives them an edge,                                                                            
That must be understood.                                                                            
Cruel death's they linger,                                                                            
Linger everywhere around.                                                                            
For no surrender or mercy,                                                                            
Shall ever be found.                                                                            
Brother kills his brother.                                                                            
Angel kills Angel.                                                                            
Kill or be killed.                                                                            
Victory or death.                                                                            
Good versus evil.                                                                            
Lucifer versus God.                                                                            
Heaven or future Hell?                                                                            
Only time will tell...                                                                            
This War of cruelty,                                                                            
This War of waste.                                                                            
This War will end.                                                                            
But does never haste.                                                                             
Many Angelic powers,                                                                            
Are swiftly diminished.                                                                            
And those with none,                                                                            
Their War is finished.                                      
Simple life and death,                                  
When powers are projected.                                  
To slow a sword blade,                                  
For some a power perfected.                                                                
A fulcrum now formed,                                                                            
It's apex Azeal and Michael.                                                                            
An unstoppable dagger,                                                                            
Heaven's taste of Hell.                                                                            
They are unremitting,                                                                            
A relentless force.                                                                            
Dispatching thousands,                                                                            
Without  remorse.                                                                            
They'll never stop,                                                                            
They'll never give in.                                                                            
Their only objective,                                                                            
Purge Heaven of sin.                                                                            
A visceral epoch scene,                                                                            
Across Heaven's plain.                                                                            
This stain of Lucifer,                                                                            
Desecrates God's domain.                                                                            
Azeal's black diamond spear,                                                                            
Merges into a serrated lance.                                                                            
Leaving Lucifer astounded,                                                                            
Giving none a second chance.                                                                            
Remorseless cutting and stabbing,                                                                            
With no defence nothing to do.                                                                            
Constantly jabbing and slicing,                                                                            
Lucifer's army literally sliced in two.                                                                            
The packed fulcrum erupts,                                                                            
With a violent splay,                                                                            
Angels killing the legions,                                                                            
That stand in their way.                                                                            
Slowly but surely,                                                                            
The tide does turn.                                                                            
Lucifer's Archangel face,                                                                            
Registers deep concern.                                                                            
For Michael, Azeal and Gabriel,                        
Are Heaven's leading mainstay.                                                                         
Dispatching countless scores,                                                                            
On their soon victorious day.                                                                            
Azeal views Lucifer,                                                                            
Briskly flying away.                                                                            
And a possible chance,                                                                            
To vanquish his prey.                                                                            
A distance of miles,                                                                            
Flying in a straight line.                                                                            
Lucifer's back now turned,                                                                            
That'll do just fine.                                                                            
He launches his spear,                                                                            
With a mighty throw.                                                                            
Reaps malicious momentum,                                                                            
Upon his targeted foe.                                                                            
Sees it will overshoot,                                                                            
And miss Lucifer's heart.                                                                            
So changes the shape,                                                                            
Of his vengeful dart.                                                                            
He focuses his powers,                                                                            
And a trident is formed.                                                                            
It drags through the air,                                                                            
With a hit performed.                                                                            
Shears off his left wing,                                                                            
But hasn't stopped there.                                                                            
Embeds in his left forearm,                                                                            
A wound never to repair.                                                                            
He screams in constant agony,                                                                            
Tumbling from blood soaked skies.                                                                            
Impaled deep in heavenly ground,                                                                            
As a shadow falls over his eyes.                                                                            
A perforated Lucifer peers up,                                                                            
Seeing only Michael there.                                                                            
Now painfully yields to him,                                                                            
His only option laid bare.                                                                      
Whilst Rakdiel throws two Keepers,                                                                  
Each a three pronged diamond knife.                                                                  
With all the strength he can muster,                                                                  
At close range to end Azeal's life.                                                                  
One perfectly aimed at his heart,                                                                  
The other between his eyes.                                                                  
Azeal deflects them easily,                                                                  
As if shooing off annoying flies.                                                                  
Rakdiel instantly draws his sword,                                                                  
Azeal instantly closes the distance.                                                                  
His recalled spear now a broadsword,                                                                  
Opponents void of passive resistance.                                                                  
Azeal clashes swords with Rakdiel,                                                                          
Lucifer's lethal wanton armourer.                                                                            
As surrender fills their minds,                                                                            
Their inevitable duel to defer.                                                                            
Rakdiel hisses, another time,                                                                            
I know we shall meet again.                                                                            
Throws his sword at Azeal's feet,                                                                            
Drenched in angelic blood stain.                                                                            
Azeal simply picks it up,                                                                            
Now piquing Rakdiel's curiosity.                                                                            
Looks into his adversaries eyes,                                                                            
Then shatters it across his knee.                                                                            
For desolate Lucifer all is now lost,                                                                            
His defeated army down they lay.                                                                            
All prisoners to face God's Wrath                                                                            
Their war lost and endure dismay.                                                                            
The War is over,                                                                            
It's carnage told,                                                                            
A quietude peace,                                                                            
Descends and holds.                                                                            
A scarred landscape,                                                                            
So immense in size.                                                                            
Littered with dead,                                                                            
Victory's bitter prize.                                                                            
And those who have lived,                                                                            
Some with thoughts their own.                                                                            
But for so many others,                                                                            
All Angelic emotions shown.  
Their wings are clipped,
Each halo then smashed.
Cast down to earth,
Lucifer's grand plans dashed.
Inside one of Heaven's Great Halls all surviving Angels are now congregated.
With endless room to spare in it's vastness.
At it's center lies a portal.
One of many located throughout Heaven.
The huge portal shimmers blue and gold dappled light on all surrounding it.
On all the victorious except for one.
His halo already obliterated by an enraged Gabriel.
The last to leave and soon to be forever expunged from Heaven.
A corruption already transforming his face. 
Lucifer.
Now pathetic looking with his smashed arm and missing wing.
Who is allowed to speak by Michael.
He looks around and spits,
Ye are all mules and lapdogs,
With no understanding,
Led by an errand boy!
I shall never worship or bow to those humans, 
Those monkeys.
As He decrees.
Never!
He who has gifted them all with souls,
Handing them out like sweets.
How dare He!
While we, His greatest creation, possess none.
Immortal we are not, 
For that is now evidently proven.
No rebirth for us. 
We'll go the same way as the dragon.
No more.
Extinct.
He will become bored of us.
Design something new.
Or those clever little monkeys and their science one day will harness,
The dragon's power and kill us and themselves doing it.
The only creature ever capable of destroying one of us.
All look on Lucifer impassively.
He sees this and deceptively changes tact and softens his voice,
Michael and all of thee,
I don't want to do good things.
I want to do great things.
Monumental things!
Let me slay Him.
Then worship me, love me and in return I will love you more than He ever could.
Michael now speaks,
Why did our Father let this carnage happen?
Is He not all powerful?
And ask thyself this Lucifer, why did He gift ye and thy acolytes free will?
Lucifer now is lost for an answer.
He pauses, then says,
Over time Michael ye and all here will change thy minds, 
And see and embrace the logic in what I have said.
I'm patient and will wait for all the stars to burn out for thy answer and then follow me.
Michael instantly replies,
Ye won't have to wait that long Lucifer,
For there is one who speaks for me and all gathered here.
And with that Lucifer looks ahead and sees a sea of Angels parting aside for one walking towards him.
One distinct one, the only one with raven black wings.
Absolute black wings approaching him amongst white, brown, cream coloured wings.
Azeal!
He nods deeply and respectfully while passing three Angels with terrible wounds,
Who won't live much longer.
He knows it as they do.
These three choosing to endure pain and stand like their brothers to witness unfolding events. 
He confronts Lucifer now staring down at the white onyx floor.
He rips of his remaining wing.
Lucifer is given no time to utter a scream.
As Azeal's hand grasps his throat and tightens slowly.
He pulls Lucifer's face slowly but surely closer to his own.
Holding him there for what seems like eternities.
His grey eyes, like that of a wolf,
Stare fathomlessly deep into Lucifer's blood shot blue eyes.
He now speaks,
𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨.
A released Lucifer gasps now knowing Azeal's true purpose.
As Michael hurls him through the shimmering portal and says,
The Lord rebuke thee!
He then addresses his brothers,
He'll lick his wounds for centuries in his new domain.
He'll seek counsel with Rakdiel.
They'll plan slowly and methodically.
Prepare a killing ground for us.
Will fill his depleted ranks with monstrosities.
Aim to outnumber us.
Rakdiel will produce weapons for him, for our next meeting.
Our final meeting.
Where we will unleash all of Heaven's arsenal among our swords!
A final battle WE will not lose!
And before it starts I'll reveal a secret to thee all, my brothers!
Michael looks at Azeal knowing he too has a secret.
A secret carried with him since the day he was created,
A secret close to his heart which will also be revealed...

It's been said it never rains in Heaven,
But at close of that day it did.
By many an Angelic tear,
Pouring uncontrollably from,
Many an Angelic eyelid.
And when the dead were gently gathered,
All were buried in a vast meadow so green.
A place where human souls shall never find.
A spot only Angels know of and breath in,
The perfume of perfect peace and fragrance serene.
Yes, a place of perfect peace chosen by God.
And where a simple white cross can be seen.

*

Dedicated to Menna.