Fallen angel dragons

First, everything in this fallen created order “answers to” something unfallen […] In other words, the dragon is the archtypical emblem of sly, crafty, rebellion – and this goes back to the Garden. Satan is that ancient dragon. If we read our Bibles rightly, we will pay attention to the symbols. Honor the symbols, people.

But of course Satan was a fallen something, and that something was, before he fell, an unfallen version of that same thing. My personal view is that he was one of the seraphim, which means that the seraphim are glorious, unfallen dragons, privileged to cry holy, holy, holy in the presence of God.

But in this world, the one we live in, dragons still mean what they mean. That meaning was assigned to us. Shifting the meaning of everything around in this metamorphing way seems to me to be not so much a testimony to our literary prowess as to the continued craftiness of the serpent.

Doug Wilson

(food for my thought and a warning as well.)

Demonbred

Ashavat, Vraniel, Luar,
Elpais, Isgenn, Colengelo, Yaris

Darkness and light and the grey before waking
The seven that made up their world before making
Listing them off, their powers unmoving

Ashavat, Luar, Yaris, all darkness,
Isegenn, Colengelo, Vraniel, light,
Elpais walk down the knife edge before them,
Balancing out the true deepness from bright.

Ashavat, keeping the history of bloodlines,
Tearing the skin from the watchers below,

Vraniel, touching the soul science slowly,
Alchemy bearing their wrist mark the most.
Luar, the two, the pairing, the mirror,
One for the other, hands clasped to the death,

Elpais, meeting the two sides together,
Balance, the hive, the family, the whole.
Isgenn, remembering words never spoken,
Creating the new worlds on paper and stone.

Colengelo, voicing the praises and failures,
Mocking and heartless and loving and true.

Yaris, the renders, the low throated whispers
Of bedrooms and blood runes and calling Him back.

Ashavat, Vraniel, Luar, Elpais,
Isgenn, Colengelo, Yaris.
The seven who stood before,
Blood diluted–
The dreamers, the wakers, the clans.

 

– By Armaleia/Stardust Asylum.
A poem, salvaged. The author and source are no longer extant.

On Angels (as I have imagined them)–

On earth and speaking with mortals they appear as humans, androgynous, robed plainly in white and silver. Even then they prefer to stand at a height, elevated, anywhere but upon the earth. And in flight they are transformed into great white birds, and radiant birds they remain when airborne, for their wings are too great and holy to touch the earth. To touch an angel is to be burnt beyond healing. They are creatures of fire, air, and the empyrean.