Wow...I haven't posted for so long. I often fall into these lapses where I really can't bring myself to exert enough energy to post. Still, it does pay to fall out of the habit for too long or else I may never take it up again. So I offer for general consumption the following really odd poem. It has nothing to do with anything I normally post about or my life for that matter. In fact, I think that it is probably a little Christian. It is vaguely inspired by Dante's Inferno, except that I have never read the Inferno. So it's really more inspired by a paper that I proofread for one of my friends that quoted something from Dante, and then an off-hand comment by somebody in my HUM class that reminded me about it when I was in a poem writing mood. As I said, a little odd.... okay, enough disclaimer:
I did not fall, but rather plunged.
A shooting star, I leapt to Earth.
I chose to reign. I could not serve.
I chose to burn so I could shine.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff,
but always seems too long to go unloved.
And when you reign in Hell, you reign alone.
They say that Hades took a bride.
But what must it have been for him
to have her sit beside his throne,
and ever count the days til spring?
I am no Hades. Hades was allowed
to go up to Olympus now and then.
Hades was a god and I a sinner.
When Korah’s troop was swallowed up,
I rose to greet him at the door
and placed him in his own small sphere.
He does not scream. He weeps instead.
But I am Satan. Satan cannot weep.
I sit enthroned on lonely heights
made terrible by emptiness.
And sometimes as I sit, I think
if I should hear a Voice that said
“Repent and you shall be returned,”
I might return just for a voice.
There are no voices in my Hell.
Just sad reflections staring up.
Not one recalls that Satan, too, is damned.