I cannot fathom or comprehend that I actually came to compose this poem -- I can't read it, even today, without busting out in tears. There are so many assholes who write up and down about our humanity and its supposed relation to a hypothetical divinity, but this little tidbit I picked up from a commentary in the Talmud says screw you to all their bullshit...
His name is Azrael -- the Angel of Death.___________________
It's more than passing strange that he was picked
To give the kiss which takes our final breath;
Which means we see him as deformed, ugly and sick...
The one who'd have been more than glad for the job,
Is not in Heaven anymore, you see;
His arrogance couldn't grasp that these farting slobs
Were born with a passport to eternity...
But Azrael was different; somehow
He saw us like we see a kitten or a cub.
So, even as Lucifer refused at all to bow,
Azrael smiled; and with a feeling of love
an angel had never known before, he got down
and tickled the baby's feet -- and also its crown.
Lucifer does not appreciate the magnificent trick the Creator pulled in making Man -- which is part of the reason why he falls...
Azrael understands something of it and loved Man -- therefore he was made the Angel of Death, the one who comes with the "kiss-which-takes-us-home".
The name "Azrael" could be rendered as "God's Help" or even "God's Strength.
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