You will pay for your insolence, for your pride and your offense. You will not know peace, all you ever loved, all you ever cherished and nourished, every single loved one, all your dreams, all your hopes, every single last wish you have, will die.
You are cursed to outlive all of them, you will wish for death, you will yearn your earthly demise, you will cry for your sweet release, yet none shall be granted, death will be your currency yet you will never be paid in full.
Your end will be elusive you will curse gods and you will try and end your suffering yourself, you will die one too many times, but to no avail, you will always wake up, you will always come back to life, unscathed. you will kill, you will maim, you will destroy, annihilate, assassinate, you will see empires rise and fall, but you will be eternal.
For your insolence I curse you to walk the earth for redemption but none will be found
I curse you lucifer till kingdom come.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enoughRabindranath Tagore