The Hermit's Journey

Updated on June 15, 2017

Book one: The hermit journey part one: the brink of insanity

with a word in triple manifest,
imbued in morphic dreams,
under the tree with its hungry roots,
with fingers spreading towards the heavens,
lies the ragged blood-soaked cloth,
a piercing cry,
to breathe air,
my dynamic form.
In the halls of my mind a scream:
arise and prepare for what is to come!

how drastic my little life,
in all its complexities,
treading the depths,
among the denizens of the deep,
tired for it's a long league to the golden shore.

I know not how I came to be,
Under this very firmament,
was I made in struggle?
Somewhere between,
The opposites of chaos and order.

the petty trammels of existence,
to walk the precarious tightrope of choice,
splintered by observable frailty,
hazarding thoughts of self preservation.

hearing the zephyr whisper to the faithful,
the bell rings out,
as elements of desire descend on men,
and daughters of men,
lament as waves crash against the strongholds.

sanity is a cloth wrapped up,
against the chilly bite,
as lilies try to spin in the meadow,
the willows sadness,
the jackals whimper,
a new day a new trial.

smoke bellows from its nostrils,
my red eyed bedevilling beast,
scraping earth,
with each cloud of dust,
taken away by the breeze,
and brought to naught yet again.
dust is formed and dust is gone.
oh our vaporous lives.


To this the spirit answers:

"my child turn away,
from iniquitous thoughts,
take the beloved pi,
surfaced in glory,
to the east,
and south.
cut it in twain and bind with h,
there you shall climb the grand staircase,
upwards to heaven,
to see beauty in all its forms"

suffer in silence,
for I aim to see not,
hear not,
and yes speak not any evil.
many do claim Promethean thoughts
of grandeur,
enough to stack piles of misplace fortune,
waiting at the doors of every inner sanctum.

to dream to dream of beasts in the field,
the lion, the ox, man and the eagle.
are you hidden or brought to light?
here or there?

The stallion my galloping beauty,
its thoughts made quite clear:
beware evildoers! for I come to tread on you,
behold the door it opens,
I shall leap forth to claim my share,
of the bounty of the soulless entities..

We build our fortresses,
walls to separate,
to prepare for the coming onslaught,
yes so even in ourselves,
to defend our hearts and minds,
from human trespasses.

far on the horizon,
a cloud has formed,
slowly descending on all,
for I am the hermit,
traveller of realities,
to transverse realms in search of mysteries,
made from broken thoughts,
in order to satisfy my inner being.

this flower in me dies from lack of water,
where are the wellsprings you promised?
where is the sanctuary for my soul?
to wipe a tear from my eye from the mortification,
of the deeds of darkness that suppresses us all,
my dahlia is under attack!


a malevolent spirit speaks to me:

"cursed ground that bears no fruit,
a wasteland you have travelled and gained what?
little lamb that bleats,
lamb that cries,
ill give you horns for your stubbornness,
and send you on your way!"

what makes us kneel?
what makes us revere?
do you hear the sound?
it is near, barely audible,
but it comes nevertheless.


I shall make myself mighty for this journey,
build up the walls to keep me whole,


there are riddles within riddles,
I see many doors and many keys,
below that overbearing tree,
and the book,
without my name to grace its very pages!

this serpent needs to feed,
as vitality folds to its power,
a single familiar prick of a tooth,
and its power courses through my body.

I see a lily resting on a calm pond,
undisturbed by the cares of life,
yet the pebble is cast.
Tell me the way I am to go?

at the entrance of the cave,
the goddess in the night sky,
among shining pearls,
adorned by her brothers light,
casts a silvery beam,
upon forest spirit,
in the graveyard of delights,
she rises as her arms paddling upwards,
beckoning for a nightly dance,
spinning with playfulness,
as each hour passes,
magical fancy under champagne skies,
signals the break of dawn.

queen of the sky with the stars at her feet,
how have you changed,
whitewashed wearing the raiment,
with many gifts and blessings,
ever watchful of the deeds of us all.
out from the cave,
I froze before her,
as her hand unclasped:

illuminate what has been secret,
raise your lamp and see:

monarchical seats,
and lovely guests for the dinner divine,
Diana and Apollo fixed in the decor,
alabaster rope knotted above the chamber,
swinging like a pendulum,
a glass is raised in a most bacchian fashion,
compliment to lovers all around,
but i step back,
whilst the foolish imp plays a glorious tune,
"pray thee" i say,
"answer me by what magic do you reveal this?
for I see a satyr dancing in the midst,
around a spinning wheel",
the seated empress rises and points:
"the path before you is wrought with death,
for we debated if we should lock you in the tower,
away from the judgement of the world.
But you have shown temperance and not joined us in drink,
therefore I give you this chariot,
ride forthwith with strength and honour among the stars!"


for many years I've been locked away,
the pull from beyond for me to go,
outside of my realm.

thus the journey begins,
beyond the hills,
in the expanse of the meadow,
lightening strikes,
tumbling off my chariot,
with my steed looking back,
to see my chariot dashed to pieces,
"awaken" says a whisper,
leading to a winding path,
as I cross between two pillars,
into an archway,
breathe again,
a crack in the ground,
bursting forth a subtle lepidoptera,
below my feet,
a path of bones,
scores my sandals,
petite allegro,
jump on this beast,
and gallop to the left.

a dove screeches as it is being eaten by a crow,
standing guard,
a baboon at the temple mount,
fire ejects from his mouth,
arrows laced with sulphur,
as they rise,
they catch a breeze,
and ride the circuits,
bless! bless them all!

these bones have wrecked havoc,
for my feet are not fully covered,
arrows have split my breastplate,
belt loosened from my weary travels,
my sword is sheathed,
and helmet left back at the temple mount.

blowing gales of change,
the curtain slowly opening,
for Persephone is strained in Hades,
whilst my will grows impatient.


straddling the black and white tiles,
admiring the observable universe,
seeing a star rise from the east,
beckoning to give my blessings and thanks.


a mysterious entity grips me:

"for we dwell in the houses,
in the inner rooms,
from the spiral galaxies,
to the spiral staircase."


from the darkness it bellows,
like a frog through viscous liquid:

"this house,
swept and made for habitation,
gentle hermit,
be not afraid of your guides,
for we have always been here."

my gentle stallion with its neck raised,
as I pet his mane,
deliver me to glory my faithful beast.

gentle woman she opens my eyes to a candle burning,
to brighten the passage of time,
to look within myself,
and the many trappings of life.
"take the candle to the mirror,"
and so I do,
"break it!"
out falls a mask.
"now you are ready to face the others"

She is holding an hourglass with seashells for sand,
counting each one
"as it is written: i am the self,
naked I appear,
in transition,
to dust I go.
to love to love,
with the length and breadth of our being,
deep recesses which hide the padlock of our hearts."

Book two: the hermit's journey part one: love and lust
the gateway has opened,
and time so fearlessly,
has stopped so abruptly.

consult if you please the immoral man Abraxis:

"Born, my brother, unto me:
a taste for this flesh in Venus divine,
sanctified in me, blessed fair,
perfection of curvature,
Defying adequate imagination,
flowering smells no incense can match,
fair born weather can never surpass,
untamed passion to burn my loins,
token paid to the higher spheres,
siren calls and siren flouts,
siren nevertheless.

how can it be this one made?
could ever take my soul,
one step downward,
one step in the expanse,
never looking back,
at the flames of my coat tails,
that burn with such fierceness,
to make demons jest,
and tempests seem mild,
by compare.

But none such power,
Should ever touch,
The smallest part,
Of my mortal soul.
Beastly in nature,
beastly it shall be."

The lover's retort:

"From the highest of places,
She is born from antiquity,
Her form crafted by skillful hands,
bereft of commonality,
l call will she answer?
I plead but will she hear?
the desired soul of strength,
that none of present can ever match,
who could pay two coins,
to cross the mighty river,
who could sacrifice a half a heart,
to pull this lamb from the depths,
who can wear a mask,
to fool even the darkest of beings,
no none such angel could exist."

Abraxis replies:

"Poor lover for you fail,
in realising that these creatures,
created from the same palette,
little dark, little light,
mostly in between,
in mass volume,
no better than a grain of sand.

Eros and his lazy arrow,
fails to fly true,
to miss that mark,
ever so wide."

The lover's reply:

"Abraxis curb your tongue!
For two hearts melded together,
Would dance so wildly,
As if accompanied by flutes,
Under mackerel scales and halos,
to hail the advent of her doe eyes,
to view heaven's ring,
For me to plant lips,
Thus this spell should never be usurped,
By your hollow view."

Abraxis gives his unpleasant reply:

"My dear deluded boy,
How confounded you are,
For yoked oxen have a better fate,
and a spell you are right,
bubbling in the blackest of cauldrons,
how do you throw your heart,
without reservation,
to be chewed on by devilish beings?,
my friend listen to me,
and I shall counsel you,
For they are many in this pond of delights,
waiting for the next delicious prey,
such would be you,
to think you would make yourself,
so readily available for her,
wicked strumpets all of them,
their hearts are marred with fantasy,
my proverb should hold true:
dash the "moral" to pieces!
and uplift the mistress!
for given the chance they would bend at the knee,
be bound by tether,
and led around like a mare in heat!
thus you should make them as a rag,
to be disposed of with haste!
For I take great pleasure,
to consign love-struck souls,
to a gnashing piranha frenzy,
chattering of hungry teeth,
sending her back her bloodied organ,
in piecemeal in remembrance of me."

The lovers strengthened retort:

"I pity you with a wrinkled brow,
our very mortality dictates,
that we have but one life,
to give so wholly to one,
the very essence of romance!
tis Artemis drawing a bow,
supplied with Eros arrows,
that emblazes young love to grow,
by your belief I should move,
as a lion devouring hearts,
and when love should shine,
its unrequited light on me,
in the later years,
with a distraught and murky heart,
what an arrow that must be!"

Abraxis unmoved replies:

"You are to be pitied,
do you think that I try to shepherd you,
for my own amusement?
You taking one leaves more for me,
to consume with ferocity,
that pales the very fires my boy!
I never rest on my laurels,
for the one on high,
has so favourably supplied,
a gift to my eyes,
silk to my touch,
smells to infuriate,
sounds to enjoy,
and tastes nothing should equal.
and what a choice on offer!
you would bind yourself in chains,
and trouble your heart to another,
whilst I make many in bliss,
thus spreading my love to the four corners!"

The lovers final reply:

"My friend you will never be filled,
indeed this hunger,
cannot be measured,
hunger that would last a life!
all your steps are missteps,
even when you think you are true.
love, wounded Abraxis, is there my friend."

The hermit rises:

"I thank you dear friends,
and now I must continue,
forward in the passage of time,
I wince at whats to come,
but must bravely go forth!"

Book two: The Hermits Journey part two: standing at the precipice and descent.


Slithering down the horizon,
the sky chariot lowers,
As I trudge through the breeze licked,
gnarled pines of the dark wood,
remembering so distinctly,
All that has transpired.

Avian friends no more,
Chirping in symphony gone!
An unease begins to gnaw,
Upon which a spectre of dazzling sorts,
Is standing before me.

A view of androgyny,
With blazing eyes,
shaggy overcoat,
a decidedly mysterious creature,

He speaks beautifully with a hint of levity:

"Treasured hermit in my graces,
the darling darkened wood,
has coughed you up,
for no fickle folk fares well in my favour,
tis I whom is selected to hold you,
ever so close to my bosom.
Shall you dance a merry dance with me?
to the charging of drum beats,
and young lamb bleats.
My dear hermit for your heart weighs heavy,
on the weighing scale,
what ails you my curious traveller?
your heavy sullen head is bowed,
no angels can wipe embittered tears,
nor present you with a single feather,
like the scattered pieces on the field,
The master of destiny is the sum of its parts,
and you shall play a part with me!"


The mask which I wear shows a hairline crack,
and in my weakened state I respond:

"no sights or sounds has bedazzled me so,
not since the day I was brought forth from the womb,
no none since then has ever gripped me,
for I fear dark has become light and light darkness,
north is south and so forth,
for you have ministered to me in times of trouble,
given the knowledge that otherwise would have been lost,
but with it comes a price,
and thus dear friend my heart is heavy on this scale,
I fear ill tempered judgements upon me,
I dance with careful steps at times,
for we are all appointed in the final act,
to account for our movements,
no matter the depth or size,
what say you spectre?"


To which the spectre replied:

"consider the movements within your own soul,
and the truth which embodies your being,
we were always with you,
like the cardinal directions to which we stood,
we coaxed you out from the cave,
into the light to which you refuse to see,
and the harmony that is us within you.
for no power to cut asunder,
nor be broken by human hand,
none below,
or above,
humanity dear hermit will worry about itself.
frolic with us in the meadows of your mind,
deliver to us your entire will,
for it is tiring to swim against the streams,
let it pull you onward,
into the unknown."


often a slight distressing malaise,
when one stands before the event horizon,
of the pull in all its tempting mastery,
a little piece gone,
a little piece of myself lost,
to the infinite!

In a frantic state of trepidation,
Enough to set my beating chest aquiver,
lapping sea foam licking at my soul,
thirsting for something to quell,
the blanket vibrato of sound,
seeking to envelope me wholly,
tumbling in a free fall into nothing.

Thoughts that oft are spurned,
return in merry-go-round fashion,
circle back to my furious pounding,
at the castle gates.
"what beastly dragon seeks to enter?"

I must confess for there is shadow nymph,
who has followed me from the meadows,
and is now plainly in view.

In a resounding seductive tone she speaks:

"Poor exhausted hermit,
I have watch you in times,
and seen your misdeeds,
especially when you thought,
no eye has seen nor ear heard.
for I've been there,
even at Eve's breast,
fate has brought you before me.
And now I give you rest,
lie with me in fields,
of subtle serendipity,
let time spindle away,
and your thoughts mellow,
for at my gates,
no man is in mortal peril."

To which my careful response:

"Mistress of the pit,
Enchantress divine,
you speak in overtones,
that I am sure many of a woeful tale,
fall prey to,
but I feel in the marrow of my bones,
that no rest should be given,
I should be as a flighty sprite,
with a wounded wing,
that has dashed a foot,
on a razor edged stone"

With the slightest of advances,
she glides toward my left hand,
and a nibble,
like a pin prick,
followed by an electric charge.

"I detect a faint morality in your essence,
how pleasant you are,
but rest assured morality is malleable,
as you well know,
humanity in all its marvels,
capricious at best,
erecting monuments,
of many fancies,
supernovas of ego bursting forth,
with every.... creation"

tongue slipping out and in,
her virulent lips,
her eyes seeing my infirmity growing,
she continues:

"and allll along we see,
every whim every desire,
every dirty little deed."

she says whilst looking downward,
then a slight giggle,
The shadow backs away.

"oh worry not,
for play time can wait,
sit and drink with me"


"what brings you at my door?"

for I thought with painful deliberation,
about my many travels,
here and there,
but a nagging surfaced,
as I notice a young woman in the corner,
below a candelabra,
on a bed.

"ah sweet youth don't you think?"
the shadow bantered,
seeking to inflame me yet again.

trying to ignore the vision of the maid,
I answered the shadow nymph,
the best I could.

"I have been searching,
for the mysteries,
deep in the psyche,
and on my travels,
I've met a fair few folk,
for I believe the one on high,
perhaps led me here to this den"

I stopped when I noticed the girls arm,
dropped to the side of the bed,
and a grievous wound,
as if a serpent bit her,
twas an angry wound,
infected I was certain.


"your barriers are showing dear hermit,
even now like a crack in the stone,
your mind is beginning to split,
why fight? why resist us?"

The walls we put up to protect ourselves,
can be staggering at times,
and on sad occasions,
and perhaps not so sad,
they are breached by the woes of life,
and love.


"I wasn't aware I was resisting"
thoughts of the lady,
ever so pertinent to the questioning,
something in my memory of my travels,
but fate seems to have sealed it,
like Daniels prophecy,
and now I find myself in the den of the lioness!


Straddling me now the dark dame speaks:

"what you think you may do you aren't,
for no elements of heroism should exist here,
you belong to me now,
for your heart is heavy on the scale,
and no fantasy of a pardon from Anubis,
will lift you,
above to the higher plane,
nor should anyone save you or her from my lair,
for when men transgress,
beyond my door,
the die is cast,
and the outcome of my choosing is destined."


Another piece falls! the crack in the mask bigger,
my nervousness a vortex of consequence,
it is as a nightmare forced on me,
from where I know not,
Is God mocking me?
is my travail to be ongoing,
forever lost in this mire!?!


A bell rings in the distance,
the lady of shadows retreats from lair,
leaving me alone with the young lady.

"who are you my dear?"

The weakened lady sits upright in her bed,
and out from her mouth,
a story unnerving as it is proceeds:

"what led me here,
a story perhaps as old as time itself,
for I followed love unto the ends of creation,
when my dearest vanished in the night,
I trekked ever so far and wide to no avail,
even into the desert,
I stumbled somewhere along the way,
and received a bite from a hideous snake,
and was captured and brought here,
in bondage to them I have been for ages."

she continued:

"no weeping can cover what I have been through,
no amount of vindication would ever bring me back,
to the happiness that I felt once upon a time."

her eyes focused in the distance,
I perceived with utter horror,
from the blankness behind them.

she whimpered ever so softly but deliberately:

"please help me hermit,
you are travelled,
can you help me find my way home?"

It all made sense now with clarity,
why I was here in this forbidden place,
it was to save her!

"My darling woman,
as long as my body holds breath,
I shall promise it to you,
that from this point onward,
we plan our escape!"

Book 3 The Hermit's Jouney The lifting of the veil part one: realisation

Meanwhile Abraxis still debating the hopeless lover the error of love:

"My boy, to what gain do you throw yourself into these devices?
this neediness, the aching want,
For something so ephemeral,
And what happens when all that remains,
are the vestiges of hurt and regret?,
Debilitated by numbness of the loss,
would you consult the stars?
leaves in a cup?,
I find it repugnant in the least."

The lover frowning replies:

"I know you are trying with great fervour,
to state your cause to assuage my condition,
but love's piper leads me down primrose path,
In an array of resplendence that only spring can offer,
by what measure shall I use to gauge my worthiness,
If not by the measure of love returned unto me?"

Abraxis mystified answers:

"Your worth is in your deeds,
Some honourable I can only fathom,
It pains me so deeply to tell you,
but there are no Elysium meadows,
No opulence in the bounty of adulation,
its mystique perforated by reality,
that our image of the other,
slowly over time: lacklustre,
the melancholic truth,
that most would rather be blissfully ignorant."

The lover pained by callousness replies:

"In the court of reciprocation,
I can attest that infatuation,
Is a flame not to be trifled,
for its power should with both wills aligned,
mocking the very ticking of time as obsolete,
for sighs to come down from the halls of angels,
triple blessed in prosperity,
no earthly fortune greater,
our reflections in each other,
like polished silver,
enough to make the sentinels drowsy,
Tis the flagship when lost in the isles"

The lover paused now thinking,
of days gone by,
and the fleeting love he once had.

Abraxis concerned speaks:
"My friend, your colour has changed,
have you seen a spirit?"

The lover's troubling reply:

"I'm a fool of the most cowardly sort,
I had her all along!"

Abraxis replies:

"Who? Who did you have? Are you feeling unwell?"

The lover now in a state of panic confesses:

"The universe aligned in all its wisdom,
to show me the grievous error,
that I had committed,
that fateful day,
I doubted love as you to the extreme,
thinking of it as no more than a fleeting feeling,
to feel safe from the worries of life,
and so when destiny aligned,
I turned my back and ran,
as if my feet were aflame,
down a different path,
Abraxis! My ruination is upon me!"

Abraxis moved deeply comforts his friend:

"I suppose in my miserable life,
fate should assign to me a cause,
it ails me to see you in such a state,
she must be a worthy sort,
for you to be so rattled,
My dear friend I shall use my clout in this province,
and my staggering wealth,
and do for you a noble deed and find your maid!"

Through bitter tears the lover replies:

"Bless you Abraxis, you are a true friend"

Book 3 The Hermit's Journey The lifting of the veil part 2: Emergence of the self


The pit of bewilderment,
Where roads end at the precipice,
Aligns with the wills of darkened shadows,
to hold humanity in,
thus our souls slated by the fates,
to forever sever the string to reality.

"My fair maid, what ever may come you remain strong,
and always think of your objective"

The maid in agreement makes her will known:

"I wish to be saved from the awful place"

A flash from beyond,
and a peal of thunder,
The gate opens to a watchful eye.

"Two minuscule lambs,
strayed away from the pen,
Naughty beasts,
I see all there is to see,
Nothing is hidden from my gaze,
your trembling is just,
like your fears and doubts,
THIS! is the prophecy concerning you:
Only one of you will ever leave!"

It continues:

"But you will leave in tatters! This I proclaim!"

There are times in existence,
when evil is so remarkably illustrated,
in one single moment,
this is that moment.

A sharpened claw reached into my breast,
pulled out my beating heart,
and vomited sulphurous blackness on it,
Then replaced it back inside.

"Whip the maid!"

pieces of myself forever falling away,
as the tree of comfort ablaze with my sins,
the crying child is no more,
lost in the wilderness of the mind,
the book opened and black ink pouring from its contents,
for we long in harsh seasons,
to retreat into ourselves,
into the mirror of our thoughts,
to break through the glass of our psyche,
reflections that swim in the depths,
among the predation of the deep,
swirling around Leviathan's grimace,
tunnel into the whirlpool of thoughts,
far as the imagination can stretch.

I've seen the upright man run afoul,
and taste the fruit,
that should have been left on the vine!
the innocence lost forever,
as the sin in all its blackness grows,
with engulfing ferocity.

in the far distance,
a trump of considerable volume,
as chains are rattled,
holy holy! holy!
for the legions are coming,
worry not!
for the victory is won already!

My house remains firm,
and the walls are strengthened,
from the message from afar,
the smallest of seeds planted,
on the most fertile of soils,
even in the company of oblivion.

"whip her again!"

A fracture once was small,
like the tiniest of frays in a garment,
spun out in the murkiness space,
The ideal "I" in youth remarkably sound,
now under extreme pressure,
forcing a regrettable fissure,

And looking down,
from the upper realms,
subservient beings,
look upon the dear maid with extreme sadness.

The maid looking upon me as I begin to dissolve,
into nothing my dear,
into the blackness,
or so it would seem,
as I reach out to her with all my strength,
one last miracle great one,
give her the eyes to see!

eternity is like a feather dusting a mountain,
and one second can be spun,
for what seems like hours
the sound comes ever so close,
like cannon blasts,
in a marching cadence,
for I look around,
captured and bound
but by whom and why?
And where is my friend?

a new found strength from where I know not,
although my arms are bound,
my worries seem to disperse,
even looking through two small holes.


crack of the whip hits the protective shield,
the barrier that keeps my integrity,
to continue in my dream,
frolicking in grassy hills,
amid lilies and floating dandelion seeds,
and seeing a curious butterfly,
that seems to reflect my face back at me,
I see the mask!


Images of people flashing in my minds eye,
living out their lives,
Unawares of the horrors in other realities,
Each moment in this state,
my perception grows sharper,
A wealth of knowledge of times I never knew,
feelings I cannot ever remember having,
from where is its origin?


In the solitude of my garden,
I see a vision,
Of something so painfully beautiful,
that words fail to describe:

"Gentle child I have watched you,
and knew you before anyone gave you a name,
you shall rest momentarily in my sanctuary,
drink of the fountain,
whilst I wipe the tears from your eyes"

I never felt awestruck as I do at this moment,
but I had to ask the question,
"Where is my friend the hermit, who helped me?"

To which he replied:

"Dearest one, you haven't figured it out yet,
but you will,
in time you will,
my angels will fight the evil ones,
when they do,
the answer will come swiftly"


Drifting in and out of conscientiousness,
which each successive whip.
I cross the stygian domain,
up, up, away,
I'm taking a ride far above a treeline,
to Icarian heights far from that place,
No matter where I fly,
I still hear the sounds,
Belching from the pit,
another trump,
and then something new,
a series of small popping sounds,
minute at first,
then growing ever so loud,
that it snaps me back to focus.


Skull raging with torrents of nefarious thought,
the gate ahead opens with a furious might,
and shut swiftly as it opened,
then locked, twice!,
there in all her glory the shadow nymph.

"You think your clever do you?
you are trapped with me,
indeed you delude yourself,
into thinking anyone would want to save,
a stinking little piglet such as yourself,
difficult to focus my dear?
the snake venom coursing in your veins,
holds you ever so captive to my will,
here my wench have another!"

She thrust the snake's fang into my arm,
the warmth of the poison,
so deliciously toxic,
that darkness yet again becomes my blanket,
My cloth against the chilly bite of winter,
is the very toxin itself.

"Even if you do flee,
you will never be rid of me,
I will be a stain on your soul,
for eternity!"


Away I go!
And a flash then a rumble,
Far from this place to a desert,
When the light is near dim,
I see a lost stallion with red eyes,
scraping the ground,
each scrape little dust devils,
spinning like possessed ballerinas,
carried away into the sky,
and up in the sky fixed looking down,
Sirius the dog star twinkling at me.
The neighing audible as such turned to speech:

"Child how tired you must be in your travels,
tidings from the east should bring you comfort,
for it has seen you, followed you,
knows you through and through,
and has given me a message for you:

Your death will happen in much later years,
in respect to your body,
but the death of yourself will happen shortly,
In triune fashion to break,
then fuse again,
you shall be made again,

I felt a searing pain down below,
as if my womb was on fire,
enough to make tears stream down my face.

"This pain is too great,
I feel faint,
weakened by it,
I fear I wont survive!"

To which the stallion replies:

"You will my darling,
for I am not appointed to give you a ride,
at this moment!"

And with that this majestic creature,
darted off swiftly speaking as it is galloping:

"Worry not my maid!"


Gossamer like tentacles invading every crevice,
as a crack forms along the length of a standing mirror,
Impish laughs and cackles from afar,
as the glass explodes with the anger of a thousand volcanoes!
a butterfly settles on my mask's eye-hole,
as one arm is raised fingers pointing up,
and one arm lowered fingers pointing down,
I knew then I had changed like before,
but this time with precision,
and the mask completely split falls to the ground!


Human endeavours throughout the strands,
have been salted by measures of dark and light,
for none see the entire scope,
of the very actions they make.
oft unaware that deeds even to the smallest,
have much wider implications,
even as minuscule as kicking a rock in a path,
that trips a passerby who stumbles of a cliff,
how much more so the more grave actions,
like the flapping of a butterfly wing,
changes the universal structure of reality.
The many souls that transverse this plane,
Most in preprogrammed fashion,
like curious beasts awaiting for the next trap,
the next pitfall that life seeks to marry them to.
The human heart is a deafening chamber,
Filled with complexities and secrets,
and the lust that abounds,
It is true nothing is new,
wickedness is everywhere,
we lust, we do, we are human,
but to whom do we exercise our fantasies,
and by what measure?


"Minister to me my guiding force,
what must I do to be whole again?
What act or deed should free me?


Out from the sky in a loud booming voice:

"Lean forward and bite harder than ever!"


And so I do,
to feel the neck of the shadow mistress,
for it is flesh!,
followed by cerise sprays,
salted smelling like copper,
dripping down my mouth and chin,
like a makeshift vampire,
the shadow dissipates,
and there staggers a woman,
older with a look of shock,
that could rock the very foundations!


"what have you done?

I smile rather maliciously but well deserved,
and spat the glob of flesh in her face.

It is now that I take note,
of myself tumbling in hurt as well,
my soul is it really stained?

The mistress drops to the floor,
and releases a stream of urine,
her spirit flies.


"this house is swept ready for habitation"

says a whisper in the dark.

The shadow creeps up,
coalescing and pulsing,
touching my third eye,
through my skull like snakes,
down the neck,
into the spine!

" we seek dry places to make a home"


no calculations can ever be made,
as to the exquisite horribly addictive feeling,
that resides inside,
when it takes up residence,
a wealth of pain,
none of which I have ever felt in the physical,
like bugs burrowing in and out my flesh,
and prickled bumps as movement of the others,
tinkering inside as if I become a command centre,
sending electric like pulses to each muscle,
twitching in glee,
making me hunger for more,
and what a great hunger it is!


I look up with new eyes and see the face of him,
looking downward at me in the pit,
hiding my face from his light.

"please I cannot bear it, please leave me!"

To which the spirit answers:

"troubled child,
you are a new creation,
albeit not one in my favour,
but now you have a path to follow,
choose wisely,
your actions from this day forward"

and with that the spirit left,
left me in a state of confusion and despair.


in the kings realm orders of course,
to continue the war:

"let none escape,
go forth and collect them all"


I can hear more popping sounds,
and I strain to bring my mind,
into the here and now,
and so with great strength I,

"wake up child"

a voice says to me,
I writhe against the bonds that hold me,
looking at my surroundings of darkness,
lit by very faint lights by candle,
and off the table,
my feet hit the cold floor,
where I cross symbols littered the floor,
then I collapse,
whilst mucus pours out my nose.


puzzled as to what happened here,
I look at the floor there lies a mask in two halves,
it is the hermits mask,
my mask!


"push onward angels!"

more sounds outside the gate,
and what strikes me,
as return fight from the pit.


"now we shall show them the power of I AM"


crawling toward the gate,
my only thought is escape,
to be reunited with my love.


worried about being in the middle,
of such a violent encounter,
I lay prostrate,
as if I was showing my humility.
I could see in my minds eye the stallion,
from the desert,
coming to claim his many prizes.


Lying in my own sweat,
Covered in blood,
I find the inner workings of my being,
Firing pulses of self degradation,
By any sound reasoning,
One could ascribe:
misanthropic sentiment,
No sanguine attempts at any euphemisms,
Such would belittle my apparent status,
I shudder to think any levity could be thought,
in my recollections of witnessing,
the true base nature of the human animal.

Many come before you with open arms,
hiding within less than honourable intentions,
for as I lay the dam of my memory,
bursts forth and what floods out makes me tremble.


Aged sweaty beasts nothing short of that description,
should ever be applied in my view,
robed, chanting to an invisible force,
with myself as the focal point.

No concern shared for my utter revulsion and fearfulness,
and why should there be?
In their merriment and blindness to my suffering,
I should have no illusory ideas that any pity,
should be levelled down to me.

Each animal act performed caused a small crack,
a snap recorded in the eternal log,
this is what my friend showed me in spirit,
who gave me the inner strength,
who granted me the insight,
Whether he is real or not is not for debate,
nor is the many visions I have witnessed,
be it ethereal or a figment.
One thing I can be rest assured,
Is that I have changed.

I find it to be a very high degree of difficultly,
To accurately delineate my thought processes,
for each measure of it like a rapid fire,
succession of tortuous mental bullets,
at each one I mentally wince at,
Often carried into the physical,
a state of jumpiness at each image.
My one hope is that my oppressors,
should swiftly be taken away!


one day my turn will come,
with my faithful steed at my side,
waiting to take me away at a moments notice.


For he in his fury has settled,
what needed to be settled,
a stream trickles from under the gate,
from the next room.


My protector oh death!
in my obeisance I sway,
for your rapier has struck them deep,
decisive and furtive,
your many designs,
ubiquitous stallion,
often you carry the scales,
to the delicate balance of chaos and order,
and often bringing order out of chaos,
I bend at the knee in my humility,
and thank you for your deliverance!


As I lie here in my bloodied state,
I feel my being beginning to patch together,
like masons laying each brick,
Building upwards,
Higher and higher,
The great tower upon which I'll sit one day,
And confer with heavenly bodies,
If that were possible.


The gate thunders again and again,
and then broke open!
In my blurred vision an image appears before me,
a man made in the image of angels I'm sure,
who speaks to me softly:

"madam we need to get you out of here"

dizziness proceeds,
then blackness.


and so with tubes and beeps in my ears,
a bed and the comfort of a chemical cleanliness,
I lay to heal,
and then the doorway opens:

a young man with an older man,
something that stirs within,
slow at first then exploding with great ecstasy!

"my love my love I have found you!"

we say in unison.

The lover reaches out:

“I have plumbed the very depths of my being,
In order to convey to you the feeling,
which blossoms in my core,
news of your ordeal has reached my ears,
and sent a lightning strike to my will,
charged with the very elements,
like a scythe to cut my embittered breast open,
I fall ever so prostrate and marry my knees to the ground,
to proclaim under heaven that the mighty seraph,
in accordance with his will,
has fired a strengthened arrow far and true,
no enemy no matter how undesirable,
Or desirable given the nature,
can ever have the power to cut asunder,
our path ever again,
this my rattling sabre of complete commitment to you”

The maid in answer speaks:

“I was led into the deserts of this world in search of you,
Like an untamed mare with a thirst that no other can quench,
Unbridled I freely roamed the meadows of my mind,
Far into the expanse until one day in hopes,
that the luck of destiny should reunite us once more.”

The lover weeping responds:

“regretfully I have scorned the very love before me,
will you ever be whole again?”

The maid compassionately responds:

“Those tender teardrops how they gracefully,
fall upon your cheek,
I have been in the darkest of realms,
with the wickedest of desire filled folk,
the miry stain that has been left on me,
that perhaps time itself could heal,
but I have gained insight far beyond my years,
with the help of a true friend,
you my heart will have to have the patience,
enough to surpass Job if need be,
for it has been said:
That everything happens for a reason.

The road to my recovery is marked with grave danger,
no easy explanation or illustration could with clarity,
show you the gravity of what followed me out of the pit,
enough to unnerve the most callous of people indeed,
broken barely covers its monstrosity,
but a frail woman I am not!
nay not anymore can I be this, I do believe"

To which the lover comforts:

"what reason hides from me like a maddening puzzle,
that any event such as this could or should ever be justified,
for any reason under the heavens,
I only look to your eyes to see a sea of pain,
that herculean efforts would be a challenge to mend,
every second that passed I'm beholden to you,
in every sense be it my spirit, mind, or body.
every ticking of the clock I'm more pulled into you,
and I fear that what if this is the mark of,
you being so horribly wounded?"

The maid understanding the concern replies:

"natural as the sun giving warmth,
your fears I hold close my breast,
I fear as well,
that I'm using my condition to trap you,
to beguile you into thinking you are safe with me,
the panic so unsettling that one day,
I become as my captors cruel and debased"

The lover responds with a rapidly beating heart:

"I truly believe that forces in their selfish pursuits,
in trying to attenuate you so carelessly,
misjudged the inner strength you possess,
I imagine them to be empty shells of desire,
and would never have the complexity,
that resides in you,
they should never have the beauty,
or wondrous chambers that beat inside,
or the love that projects from your eyes,
in the way you look at me.

They will never spin the enchantment,
that you deliver to take my reins in,
and lead me to better waters,
for I am just a mere brute beast,
in the company of infatuation,
how could I have ever had disdain for this feeling,
how could I ever treat it so careless?
from the spark to the flame to the inferno,
I am so helpless and weak in this light,
for the power that it projects is none like any other,
my dearest maid,
for whatever happens be it fate or destiny,
be it sadness or glee,
whatever may come,
I would love to be by your side,
in completeness,
in every way,
my maid,
give me your arms,
let us embrace,
let me plant my lips on heaven's ring,
I promise my heart to you forever!"

with that the lovers embrace and shared a kiss, Abraxis poor soul wept.

The shadow from the pit,
left its mark upon the maids essence,
maybe in time it will move on,


Far away in another reality,
the hermit exhausted by the days work,
knowing all that has transpired,
considers for himself to resign to the cave.

The End


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