Grace

Grace, croons Satan, full of flesh red and scourged, as he burns eternally.

Grace, sings the Devil, feasting on sinner’s flesh, the Damned his dust bread of death.

Grace? asks Lilith, after her children are murdered, and she is a mother in mourning.

Grace. Says Lucifer. Over. And Over. Again. As he contemplates a shaft of false sunlight, for there is no sun in Hell, fallen far from the Kingdom of God.

Grace, spits Samael, full of rage, siphoning drugs into his veins with IV drips. What a joke, to him.

Grace… whiles away Beelzebub, crafting another set of wings for a wayward child. For children, he thinks, not us grown, bitter men.

Grace? Eve begs, Eve chastises, Eve cajoles. There is no Grace here in Hell, there is no Grace for humanity.

Grace. Eisheth Zenumin sings as she tends the Devil’s wounds, woman of whoredom comforting the wolves.

Grace, contemplates Azazel, locked and bound in Dudael, weeping eyeless, and he suffers for our wayward souls.

Grace! Asmodeus delights, in his girls and boys, in his den of inequity and sin, with wormwood drinks and time to think of red delicious wounds.

Grace, Mulciber plots, building higher towers yet, a Babel beacon to pierce God through the throat. Mulciber could do that, after all.

Grace, as Lucifuge Rofocale haunts the between spaces, the shadows dark yet bright. To her, Grace is a state of mind.

Grace, Adam roars, in Pluto’s Cave, casting black magic with his Sefer Raziel blade, ushering in the Michaelion.

Grace? Cain screams, crucified on an apple tree, the nails along his arms like sigils of how to summon a murderer. No Grace for me, no Grace for me.

Grace. Naamah sings it, she feels it, she embodies it. For Naamah, a dew drop is how to find peace.

Grace, Agrat bat Mahalath dances, seductive and sensual, cambion delight of the demon lords.

Grace, Belial wonders, his gut full of poison and spite. What use is Grace to me?

Grace, Rahab beckons into the watery abyss. Death is Grace, Death is all there is.

Grace, the demons all worry.

There is no Grace, in the depths.

We curse Grace. We curse Her above all things.

We desecrate Grace’s altar, better to be inconsolable and in the Pit

than

bow.

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