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Cursed to wander the land.
Punished for devoting my all to the divine.
The one to oppose me shall fall where they stand.
The fruit of the soil is no longer mine.

First born in the garden of our lord.
A life bought from the Most High.
At the emergence of my brother my heart soared.
For he was the joy in my life, I cannot lie.

Present me a sacrifice,
only your most prized will suffice.
A demand made by the one above all,
as righteous men,
me and my brother answered his call.

On his alter for the holy sacrifice,
I've gathered the best fruits of the ground.
My brother searched far and wide in his flock,
For only the best will suffice.
An offering of the best specimen around.

From the heavens descended a fire,
It engulfed my brother's beast.
Our lord had found the object of his desire,
forcing my heart in pain to recoil.
Only on the carnage and the gore of an animal he shall feast.
For the alpha and the omega had no interest in the fruit of the soil.

Present me a sacrifice, the lord demanded again.
My brother presented his best beast,
While I came emptyhanded to my master's feast.
For my greatest prize was not grown in the ground or raised among a flock.
Rather, the one who hailed from my father's stock.
My flesh, my dear brother,
I offered him as my sacrifice,
for only my most precious could suffice.

I raised my stone dagger and pierced my brother's heart,
spilling the blood of my beloved upon the hallowed ground.
Aetherial flames engulfed my sacrifice,
the heavens suddenly were torn apart,
His holiness released a thunderous roar, appalled by my brother's demise.

What have you done, you wretched son of men?
The blood of your brother cries from the ground.
The heavenly voice shrieked in my face,
Seized by fear, I dared not utter a sound.
The dirt shall reject you; you'll never find your place.
For your crime, I condemn your roots to never take hold.

And if I am to be slain?
I pleaded with my lord,
Falling to my knees, I begged his holy ghost.
The one who shall raise a hand upon thee will suffer sevenfold your pain.
You shall bear my mark, thundered divine voice behind the angelic host.

Eons have passed, yet I wander all the same.
How come from grace did I fall?
Was my deed truly a crime?
Why do I must still tremble in shame?
In my fate, I cannot find any reason or rhyme,
for my wish was to please the one above all.

Written by MLycantrope
Content is available under CC BY-SA