The Devil’s Plea

Through the keyhole of Heaven, even angels tremble — for what the Devil asks is not forgiveness for his sin, but refuge from mankind itself.

The Devil was crying loudly.

He knelt before the gates of Heaven, begging God for forgiveness — pleading for refuge, not from Hell, but from humanity itself.

The angels were stunned. None had ever seen the Fallen One so desperate.

One whispered:

“There must be a trick. The Devil never kneels without reason.”

Another said:

“He wants to deceive us again — to crawl back into Heaven with his cunning.”

But was it truly deceit?

Or was there another truth — one we had long refused to see?

When Archangel Gabriel heard the news, he ordered a court outside the gates of Heaven.

No unholy foot was to step within the Divine realm, yet even God allowed the plea to be heard.

The Devil entered quietly.

He bowed his head and began to speak:

“By the greatness of the Almighty — when God created Man from clay, I refused to bow.

I was made of fire; he, of earth.

I asked for time — until the last of Man’s kind walks the earth —

time to prove that the clay He loved was flawed.

And He granted it.”

The Devil’s tears fell upon the dust.

“You, who dwell in Heaven, have never lived among them,” he said.

“You do not know what they have become.

They capture my children, use them as tools,

curse my name ten thousand times a day,

and yet they act worse than I ever could.

They create machines that reach the sky

and declare themselves gods.

They build cities of worship in Your name,

but behind closed doors, they commit horrors beyond imagination.”

He raised his trembling hands.

“Even I — the deceiver — am deceived by them!

They bind me in chains of falsehood,

and use my name as their excuse.

Fear the day they discover your weakness,

for they will enslave even the angels.”

The angels looked at one another in silence.

Michael spoke:

“Have you no shame, Lucifer? You once were one of us!”

The Devil lowered his head.

“Yes. I once was light.

But my fire was pride — and my punishment, eternal.

Still, I tell you now:

I am no longer their enemy.

They have surpassed me.

They create evil without my whisper.

They call it progress.”

A quiet despair filled the court.

Gabriel turned to the others:

“What do you see among men?”

Michael said:

“I have given them too much strength. Their power is beyond measure.”

Raphael answered:

“I have healed them too often. They no longer fear death.”

Uriel said:

“I have taught them too much. Their minds reach even Heaven.”

And Azrael, the angel of death, whispered:

“They blame me for every ending,

yet it is they who have learned to destroy without reason.”

Finally, Seraphiel — the angel of love — spoke softly:

“I gave them love,

but they turned it into possession.”

Gabriel sighed.

“Then perhaps,” he said,

“the Devil’s tears are not of deceit,

but of truth.”

The Devil looked up once more.

“Grant me only this,” he pleaded,

“that I may hide — not from Your wrath,

but from theirs.”

Silence fell.

Even Heaven could not answer.

Faramarz Parsa

A whisper between thought and light.

یادداشت نویسنده(فارسی)

التمـاس شیطان

فرامرز پارسا

شیطان در برابر خدا زانو می‌زند،

نه برای نجات از دوزخ،

که برای پناه از انسان.

فرشتگان حیران می‌نگرند —

شاید حقیقتی پنهان در میان است.

زیرا گاهی،

آنچه از سوراخ کلید دیده می‌شود،

چیزی است که آسمان از دیدنش می‌ترسد.