To him, God was dead. He was the equivalent of a dead beat who always promised to come around, but never did. He was a father who vilified Lucifer, and made him a torturer. A father who disowned his favorite son all because Lucifer loved God more than the humans. In his mind, he had no father anymore. But, in the privacy of his apartment above Lux, when Maze wasn't around, he would find himself praying. No matter how much he hated is father, he couldn't stop loving him. He couldn't find it in him to stop. Sure, he could destroy his wings and abandon his post. He could disrespect and curse his father, but the love was still there.
He wondered if God was still there, was still with him. He wondered if his father still cared about or loved him. Lucifer couldn't understand how his father could. Lucifer was an outcast, had disobeyed his orders. He had disowned his family, and had taken it upon himself to do as he pleased. All against his father's wishes.
Linda had tried convincing him that his fall was because his father trusted him more than the others to do the most difficult of jobs. She considered it a gift, but how could being made the social outcast be a gift. How could any of this pain and torment be considered a gift? After their meeting, he found himself in solitude once more.
"I don't even know if you can hear me," he said to himself, laughing at this absurdity. "I'd assume you can. I'd also assume you'd be ignoring me like you have since the beginning of time. I just want to know why. Why me? Why make me seem so evil? I just wanted them to know the truth, didn't want them to be locked away and made to think you were the only good thing on earth. And why punish me for loving you with everything I was! Why tell me that my love for my father was wrong?" He didn't receive an answer, and knew he wouldn't. God had forsaken him, had vilified him. And that hurt more than anything else.