...and our kinsmen die. We die if not, unless we pull ourselves within from without, but for a stammer they die.
What you planted has withered. What we did while dreaming has withered. What we hailed while offering our homestead has flourished into oblivion! The fruit of our kinsmen has waisted in the midst of awful negligence!
But for a stammering in the wake. Upon a land in the mighty mind.
** * ** **
Make your Soul a fortress. What ever batters against the sacred inner doors. Close the kind heart. And drink to the defeat of all spiritual ignominy!
Let us dance the heart felt gig on their filthy corpses and hail while blessing with complete condamnation of the heap, the Golden Flower in our ancestral memory. There is no hope here, and yet neither does despair find a haven in our home.
For alas, hope has gone. Has left the home without ado.
Make soldiers of our boys, to win and not ever to lose! We will not lose!
I'll make of Death a foundation for my Ideal.
** * ** **
Remember mankind is an ape when it's not you or your kin.
You are a Lucifer fallen from the upper firmament. All that just to redeem some synthetic genetic program, senseless, without a heart, without a divine Soul. Made of biological zeros & ones. Created and fashioned by the False One laughing in the gutter. Inside his nothingness.
They are jealous selfish & mean. Rust on the moss between the cracks in a degraded place. Uninspired. Without a King's Heaven to be spirit born.
Remember, mankind is not even like the ape! But you have been distilled on high before the High One: you are his son. And so are all your Kin.
 |
| A beautiful boy engendered in the sphere of the Demiurge. |
