I am the Angel of Wisdom,

Keeper of every stubborn truth,

Councilor of Heaven and Earth,

Uriel is my name.


Once my brothers depended on me

It times of duress, times of terror.

They would come calling

“Brother Uriel, Brother Uriel!”


Yet my pupil, Brother Michael

Has come to believe he has outgrown me

That my council is an antiquity

That he has a lifetime’s knowledge in his youth.


Now my brothers desire his council,

The fiery, righteous, mercurial words

Of a new and energetic firebrand,

Weaving saccharine prophecies.


The mistakes of youth, new and exciting

create tears, wrinkles, and scars.

Pride and Zeal,

Prevent their mending.


I try to involve myself

Speak without being spoken to

I invoke my wisdom

Heard only by the deaf.


I feel a great sadness,

A terrible depression

Overwhelm my old soul

I scream, wanting only to be heard.


I am afraid dear brothers

That even though I am divine

That I will die, or worse

Be forgotten like the gods of old.


I fear what they’ll do without me

These young siblings of mine,

What reckless endeavors will they embrace

Without I, their guide?


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