Venus came from sea foam.
She came from vitriol.
The innate difference was
she did not have the divine nature.

Pity the falling star
as it burns in life-giving oxygen.
Its graceful arc belies
the intensity of the anger
of Saint A. who flung it far.
Descend in flames!
Oh wretched body,
condemned from the heavens you abandoned.
Weep your tears of molten iron,
in your very own
Fall from Grace.
Like a fallen angel,
the facadious beauty stripped,
the dark core once hidden,
now exposed.
In anger and shame
it burns.
Wreathed with incoherent flames
that snake insiduously,
it is an interesting,
albeit temporal,
spectacle.

amusing.