The Origin of Evil, a poem.

Raised up on high, the divine purpose of reflecting light

Accentuated with a beauty from the touch of the Divine

And day and night, before these existed

Rang the exaltations from others created

And in that sweet instance where the created reflected Light

A portion passed through that portion being pride

For the good nature of the Divine holds every rationale

To bear pride within its limitless bounds

And the passing through of pride was not the offense

But when she held on tight to what made no sense

For the created to own pride is foolish indeed

When all is a gift for slaves who were freed

Freed for a purpose to reflect light and love

As humanity takes the same fall from above

From very high places, we all take the plunge

From the gift of freedom to the lie of fun.

With a plastic scepter in our hand and masks inlayed with false praises

We are the false gods without any nation

No earth, no world, no people of our own

We've demanded our freedom only to lose our home

A good home, it was full of love and care

But fear not, Lord, there are some that remain there.

They are children of light, the light that You shine

Who hold no interest in keeping what's Thine.

And in allowing Your pride to pass through

They resound an ancient anthem of Truth

They sing Holy, Holy, Holy is our God

And so very Worthy of all of our love

And they sing with loud voices, and they sing with hands raised

And they sing with abandon, not needing the fame

For the mistake made by one who was followed by others

Drew a line that divided all of them from God-Lover's

So who you are comes by how you exit the stage

Do you hold onto pride or reflect to, from where it came.