War on Heaven (trapped in Hell)

They seem to hold me in the building that doesn't exist, Lucifer and Satan invested on the war that's going on.

When they ignore my pacing, I stand off behind them, watching the battle rage on in Heaven.

Now and then, Lucifer pays attention to me, and it's the kind where I feel brainwashed by his beauty. A sort of forced craving comes upon me, as I wonder what he'd look like out of clothes.

Probably brighter than any star or sun created.

I inwardly curse myself and go back to pacing, planning and overthinking.

And occasionly looking at the black slab, as the battle continues.

Loss is what catches my eye the most; he's like his own army, moving fast, and cutting through weapons that are made of heavenly divine weapons while he uses devilcrafted swords and so forth.

I catch myself more than once admiring the bulge of his biceps as his body tenses and then braces itself against the opponents attacks, how one swipe of a sword shreds his shirt, and I can see