Beelzebub’s birthday

First in a fallen angel series:

You humans dream of good, but long for bad,

you make it much too easy.

Time gave you peace and property –

yet that was all too boring.

Like moths you seek my flame,

devour you, I shall, since that is what you wish.

My hope was, though, for greater gift,

for stiff resistance and at last surrender,

for valiance and need of all my cunning.

Where do I find a being

who is, if not my equal, then a noble challenge?

To win a human is the triumph of the easily impressed,

but I am Beelzebub, the conqueror of strongest hearts.

I merit better than such trifling, drooling human wreckage!

I want a Faust who does not seek my help, who spites me, not co-opts me,

who seeks the sacred moment and wagers all to win immortal soul.

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