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The Key of Mysteries

A stapled man on a cross is not the Son.

The Goodness of Light be the Anointed.

A pentagram is not evil.

The fear of it is evil.1411134753055

A man in clouds is not God.

Sense perception be thy Epoch.

A baphomet is not the Devil.

The terror of an image be thy Archon.

Pretentiousness and spite,

Humility and altruism.

Synonymous in all of Us.

The Last shall be First,

The lowest the Highest.

From decent, ascension.

From darkest to brightest.

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The Encumbered

The lowly fates are sealed;

Our societal masters have already decreed. 

Souls belonging to Macedonian soldiers,

Whom road for the Alexandrian cause,

Hearts of Poets and pious scholars,

Revolutionary thinkers and scientific tinkers,

Cast again into the River of Lethe,

Fate chosen by Moon-Spewed back into vessel anew. 

Perplexed to find ourselves shunned, unrecognized in the courts of Kings.

Wisdom is eternal, accrued lots will perish.

We ourselves are our own kings, though all of you forgot.

Since I have sense, as well as you:

For what gifts indeed have you that others do not?

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Not Without What’s Within

I spent a year in torment and another in limbo.
Between bottles of scotch and an earful of bimbos.
I had sworn off sentiments and living for others.
Woe’d the stain of women, including my mothers.
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But something had come and graced the inner light.
To live and die for my beloved man’s celestial right.
Then out of the ashes my heart is reignited.
A personage like myself has been sighted.
Despite her beauty and our emotional volatility,
perhaps a time to explore untapped tranquility.
Whatever to come, let us seek to embetter ourselves-
and place our bitter pasts on these dusty shelves.
Together we strive for a better world to live in.
So let us go forth; but not without what’s within.

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On Melancholia

‘Tiss a strange thing, is it not?

Being drawn into despair.

The timely sensation comes when one is most alone.

It is there to remind you of your vulnerabilities, weaknesses, mortality.

Yet it is the very thing that makes us fearless.

The emptiness, like the churning stomach in need of substance.

The resentment, a mocking voice within holds you prisoner.

A deranged captor tormenting the kept.

Reach out and touch vise; reach within and think thrice.

The low howl of the nightly wretch cry on.

The dull drums of deaths nigh sincerely sung.

A yearning for salvation is met with apathy.

As you once had turned your back on the world, so they in turn you.  

 

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Ex Lives

When I am judged, will they be harsh on my punishment?
For having the Gnosis, for knowing between good and evil;
Yet still committing acts of mindlessness in pursuance of sensation.
When my life is nullified, will they take into account the pains of imprisonment?
Will I ever forgive myself?
The enduring of man, separated from his half, cast into aimless mortality.
Do I do these things to blend in, like a Chameleon on my Path of Many Colors.
Or is that just my excuse to remain here?
Are my past lives so horrid of things, and is that part of me vicarious?
In pursuance of the questions, We stumble and weep. IMG_2191

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Saturated Souls Seldomly Settle

Look at them there.

Pointing, charting, analyzing unto death.

Everyone’s trying to sell you something.

Every month we owe money to someone we don’t know.

Consuming, breeding, tantalizing unto death.

Distractions are ample. Be it games for the people or new shopping malls;

Our gaze is ambiguous and fixed this way and that.

Humanity is the sickness of the Earth.

You there, what is your purpose, I beckon.

The fat man behind the counter is made to service the company and the customers.

Somehow he is okay with his baseness.

Is it ignorance? Lack of understanding?

No, he is merely comfortable in his conformity.

He makes ends meet, all the food is affordable, and within proximity.

It could be worse, he thinks to himself as he imagines being homeless-

or having been born in a less developed impoverished nation.

Yet he never imagines how much better it could be.

We could be better.

 

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Of Both Worlds

Conjured through your visceral fears.page42image256

Son of Charon, I siphon the Earth.

The blade at the jugular. 

Keeper of the gate-Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

Surrender the throne; wanton greed be not atoned.

Summoned by the spoken word

Mediator of the Father, this heart beats louder than most. 

The impulsive righteous hand. 

Son of Jon; Downtrodden with the simple and humbled. 

Into the beggars hand I give and your love I take.

I am pestilence and the prodigal son.

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Lessons Of Old

page6image256Through my fathers hand I learned the art of shrewdness and manipulation.
“Always be on the lookout,” he would say.
I was a secret operative and was scolded for being caught.
By observing shadows and reflections, I could watch them discreetly.
Most of these creatures you cannot trust.
When I’d get into scuffles at school, he’d pick me up and say
“Which hand did you use?”
After, he would smirk inside and see his own rebellious youth.

I was to be more observant than observation.

Though I am to become an owl preying over my environment-
I had to appear just as oblivious as the mouse.

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Laws of a Pessimist

-Observe shrewdlypage27image1136
-Take in completely
-Contemplate death frequently
-Seek malice not, yet know its vicinity
-Fight back, lacking equity and mercy
-Swear thy enemies eternally
-Give your heart rarely, and yet verily
-Intrinsic is Good and Evil, use them synonymously
-Know oneself and purpose entirely
-Forget not your memories
-Stay on path with Fate and Destiny
-Always posses a contingency
-Dream lucidly and remember them vividly

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Dreams So Perplexed

Wakened and stirred by scents and sounds;

Mémoires of nocturnal scenes come with platters of sentiments,

Lucid Interactions, and divine apparitions .

Some say they don’t dream; Truly, they do.

One simply ceases to dwell upon them when waking.

Perhaps imagination left them, from the gloom and dregs of society.

Choose not to overlook one of life’s greater mysteries;

Open thy eye of terra firma,

Latch it to the ethereal and forever see.

Do not run from- but to that which seeks you.