ANGEL Essay Research Paper englishcreative writingANGEL The

ANGEL Essay, Research Paper english-creative writing ANGEL The angel lay there, clothed in a robe. The street around it had gone from dirty to sparkling in a matter of seconds when it fell to earth, and the buildings around it had gone from gray to white. One of its wings was cocked behind it at an unnatural angle, and a small trickle of black blood seeped slowly from it.

ANGEL Essay, Research Paper

english-creative writing

ANGEL

The angel lay there, clothed in a robe. The street around it had gone from dirty to sparkling in a matter of seconds when it fell to earth, and the buildings around it had gone from gray to white. One of its wings was cocked behind it at an unnatural angle, and a small trickle of black blood seeped slowly from it. The wings were crow-like, and furthermore, its legs were scaled and taloned. Its eyes were blank and dark, but still, it retained its semi-human form. It had fallen from a great distance; not from the clouds as you might believe, but rather from another place; another time. It had been ripped from its home, and plopped down here, in this dingy, deserted place. God had spoken to these people, and the voice had ruptured the entire fragile land. The people were severed from their gods and icons, and shown the face of the true god. He had played a trick on the whole world, a very mean and nasty trick, showing himself in a light so warm and comforting, when in truth, he was wholly malevolent and vile. His Truth had killed them all. The Truth tore over the land like a bloodthirsty beast and destroyed his adversary?s people. His Truth was what some called ?Armageddon.? Prophesied and proclaimed through the ages, the time had come, brought about by the one being whom had always been there to protect them.

God was the Devil. And the Devil was God. They had always been gods in their own rights, but the tables had been turned. God had pulled the masks off. The Devil, or Lucifer, as he was frequently called, had been there. God was the monster under the bed, he was the one whom gripped hearts in his black icy grasp. He had taken credit, Lucifer had stayed quiet. There had been a code of silence between the two, after all, all that had been different was the names.

Now the angels were falling. They had believed in their god, and he had tricked them, too. The ones left had been evil from the beginning, fallen ones who hid behind their white wings and their yellow talons. When angels fell to earth, the dirt and chimney soot were burned away, leaving a small patch of blue sky. Not that there was anything or anyone left to appreciate it. There were about three trillion angels laying among the mortal dead or dying. Oceans, deserts, forests, mountains, lakes, tops of buildings. The angels were very slowly, cleaning up earth. The archangels had yet to be expelled through the bowels of heaven. They were warring with the Dark Ones. They were fighting for their lives, although most had lived long ago, or never at all.

The mortals left were dazed and insane. The earth was left scarred and battle-worn. God laughed to himself in his hell. The Devil was in his heaven and all was right with the world.

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