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Do what thou wilt the devil spout

Feel like a wicked masquerade

Ceremonies of a wicked heart

Families torn apart

The mortal remains of incubi

And succubi creep into sin.

A moonlit vista dominates

Notice the foggy mist

A briar-field steeped in thorns

No respite, no grassy dawns in sight,

Nietzsche, the Gnostic saint, sighs:

Throughout a nightmare in three acts:

A large private house, blacked-out

Windows, distorting views.

Disorientated, he claims to be

A workman, claims to be you.

Strapped in a dentist's chair

Nobody there. Disguise, pullout

His eyes. Nowhere to hide...

A ritual sacrifice

On an improvised stage: an upturned

Child’s cot. Jesus saves.

Next door, evisceration is being endured

In silence. The ghouls are not to be

Trusted. A Health Spa dedicated

To the worship of the body. All the staff

In sparkly clean white uniforms with

Faint splatters of blood..

Nobody knows about this but me.

I recognize voices

I try to flee. See!

Being injected again

World without end.

◄ Queen

Council House Kid ►


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kealan coady

Sun 3rd Mar 2019 08:34

I enjoyed this being a thelemite myself, I'm surprised theres no mention of Crowley in it. A beautifully written piece.

93 93/93

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Jason Bayliss

Fri 1st Mar 2019 21:48

That is really good, complex but really good. I'm going to have to read it again.☺

J. x

steven arthur

Fri 1st Mar 2019 18:45

excellent as always

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