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?