In my second, I was the inheritor, the meek, and I was the godly who bowed before those men who dared to stand, brave they were. My number was many and I followed the one I once was. Servant to the serpent, The number was I of the stars which follow the eternal baal through his daily journeys. Weak in strength, powerful in weight. force compels my will, like the grave it calls ever down, down, down.
In my third, I was the observer, the all and without number. And now, at last I morphose the fool, I stand and hold both ends of my sword, stand neither servant or master. Oh how I look foolish. “He knows not how to bear arms!” they mock, and laugh.
But I hold both blade and hilt with cause, ally to the defenseless and foe to the wicked. The wisean silently stand and hold the sword at both ends. the unwise think we fools.
If I was wisean, I think I would hide wisdom in parables,
lo how the meat be picked apart but rarely gorged upon when shrouded in off.
If I was unwisean , I would again hide my insophis in further parables,
to be devoured, but rarely refined.
The fool observes the wise starve and the unwise gourmand on parables of truth and profane with equal measure.
Born of rape the horned one’s fire rose from the earth I saw the lich bound by his stave, and begat the woman of man for Eveleth shall be Mother of man. And Leviathan the father, mark well these words. All humbled before Bel Nimrods Fire.
nisi priús cum matre suá, sororis, et filiá, rem habuerit.
I am father of adam, I stand before woman, prone. Her fire drawn to my dry wood does quench my lust.Such fire does burn and the bush must burn to create my offspring eternal.
Beware that third messiah, oh logos of the dead king, he teaches only life in death. I bring the jovial of life. the child of god is man. brought forth in carnality and feast, without which all is inert. Desire and feast, for you will starve eternal.
Saclas the Fool