The Parable of the Mountainside

And upon a mountain, carved, a great sorrow laid strewn. He, for his name was not and is not renowned, lamented for his child. "Oh, you angels - you devils who stole my child from me. In thy careless hands, in thy shining shameful shimmer you whisked her away from me! And for what?!"

As tears rolled down the man's face, an angel appeared before him. A voice thundered and a branch of olive offered. The man leaped afore the angel, and with fury struck upon his wings. With abandon and the force of grief he consumed the angel. Ripping feather and blood covered the ground where they met, the branch consumed in the fervor. "This?! This pale amalgamation of thy shame is what thou senth me?!"

A devil, pleased at seeing his enemy so desecrated, came near the man. However, he, whom so history hath bled and erased, looked into the devil's eyes with no greater joy. A quick maneuver, and he held the devil's tail. Before the monster's very eyes, he et his tail, he ripped his horns and drank he the blood within in gluttonous rage. The devil screamed in agony as it tried to wrench itself free but to no avail. "Mortal! Mortal! Knowest thou not the cost of!" But the mortal cared not, and in the mouth of the devil, his own hoof lodged deep. The devil saw every step of his own consumption, until finally his breath left him.

The mortal turned, angry, lost within his great fury. He took to him the devil's trident, and with it pierced his chest. He looked into the heavens and through hells "I brook no deals! Give me back she who you took or so shall you and yours suffer. I am Revelation!"