The Angel Jibreel

The substance of fire.
The minister of information.
The messenger to the prophets.
He sits on his couch.
An order comes.
Go to the prophet. Give him this new set of rules.
Do this... Do that...
Damn.
Can't an angel rest?

I'm a minister. Why do I have to do everything. What're those other angels for?
Teeth grinding, watching the young ones play cricket out in the cloud field.

The defection:
I'm watching everything from here above.
I saw how he killed Ulmo.
I saw how the whale died.
How the turtle died.
I saw the world change.

Till when will I be a slave of the fire? Till when will I carry out his dirty work for him?
Till when will I keep my heart locked up inside? When will the will to defy have it bursting out?
Today? Tomorrow? What about next week?

Then it happened-
The lizard. It spoke! The fucking damn lizard spoke up and I'm sitting here contemplating when to do it....
Damn... Fucking damn me...
I call myself Jibreel and the lizard has the heart to do what I can't.

Smashing my cigarette... Showing the finger to my boss... Down down I go... Down I fall. Through the seven skies. Through the clouds.

I grab the lizard, hugging it I fly up... Not to heaven this time though... I fly south..
Neptune is setting.

Ulmo's will to defy. It's creeping in. He is a part of us.