So, not the same evening. I lied.
Then shining Siderus, the man of bronze,
Replied in cold, metallic, winged words.
"Imagine, then, this justice for our God:
That he should for one soul this ill create.
We know the long-lost lightborne star to be
An angel fallen, once-knight of the Throne.
On seventh day, he faces all that is,
The scope of grand creation, shining suns,
Aetherial voids and wide, terrestial orbs,
All things most worthy of his praise and awe.
But in his heart he finds a deeper space,
A vacuum where the Word of God is null.
Thus Satan, questing in unfriendly dark,
Found in himself unLove, unLife, unGod.
This done, he turned his aspect from the Throne.
Th'eternal Deity, though, struck accord,
That th'Accuser, as he now was styled,
Should have his chance to prove the worth of ill.
That's all I have for this, and I'm not sure yet if I will maintain the perspective. I like it from a story perspective (it may well remain in the Epic. Incidentally, the poetry you've reading is from a work-in-progress called Dux Argens, the Silver Duke. Who knew my epic would end up this didactic? That said, this piece is from a book, yet unnumbered, which may contain the Pilgrim's Congress), but I'm not positive that it's my final solution - I think there's something more to be said. We'll track it down yet.
It's an odd confluence, but what do you say to a man who desires that you should abandon the things you hold dearest, and believe with greatest hope? Who would have you give up faith? I can accept with equanimity the failure of his belief - I can even applaud his conviction. But I cannot be what he wants me to be, believe what he wants me to believe, even as I face the questions that concern him most in this course.
All that said, I'm sure I'll find an answer - else what am I here for?
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