“The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy.
What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”
How do you determine what is good vs. evil, right vs. wrong? Does your ignorance guide you?
We are in the middle of a war, and our battle front spans many worlds, yours and mine included. Like all great wars, this one is based on ignorance, our soul’s belief in injustice and tragedy.
What is your role in all of this? You are stuck between the lines on the pages of your life. You are only innocent bystanders at this point in your life, but when you die, the choice of sides will be yours unless this war is won during our mortal lifetime, then it is you who will be left to clean up the mess that’s left when two clashing armies fight until one reaches utter destruction. You will be the one until the new master realigns the balances of the divine.
Questions are soaring through your mind; lying on the tip of your tongue – I can feel them – trying to burst through your lips’ hold on them. Listen with all your heart and the answers you so diligently seek will be made known unto you.
I am Penemuel, and am counted among one of he fallen. Scribe to Appollyn, my job is to write of the events that transpire from our war for you and its history so you may understand and see without the veil being lifted during your mortal existence of what was, is, and may become. If we are successful in our endeavors, this will become a New Testament, scripture, and model for mankind.
Scribe was not always my calling. Before my fall, I was scribe to Him, Elohiem, God of our Heaven and Hell. I transcribed during the great council, and gave scripture to many of the prophets of old. My fall came however, when I parted with my notes of the great council and the first war in Heaven to an Earthly prophet. God told me that I had given too much, that I disobeyed Heaven’s law by imparting one of the greatest secrets of Heaven to Man. Man was not to know of the war, nor of the fall of over one-third of Heaven’s angels.
I gave too much when I told the prophet of old about the debated then agreement of the Beloved’s plan for salvation, your salvation, something many of us will never know unless this war is won.
God’s words still echo in my mind when I look at my wings, feathers blackened from my fall, gleaming under the moon or by the light of Hell’s fires, “You, Penemuel, disgust me with your presence. You who were one of my most loved will never know of such love again. You are no longer one of my accepted sons.”
That was many years ago, and now, I write for a new master, Appollyn or Death as you call him. I also write for myself, whispering words into the minds of man so as to see my work displayed where all of man can read them as well as to invoke God’s anger.
I write the deeds that God will never speak of to you – his blameless children – blind like sheep, and will always until my final destruction comes, continue to write words to corrupt and cause rebellion among you - you who are blind and being led only by faith in Him.
This is our story…