Excavations in Pre-Rami (Poem)

On the edge of the world,
Overlooking all our waters drain away into the abyss,
The tri-am-varate with their hands clasped together,
Motioning for Creation to continue and from nothing to order,
Chaos and Eros and Gaia,
There with us mothers, fathers and parents all,

All I can do is stand and watch and wait,
The Babylon’s cry summoning me from the Void,
To a force as primal,
To a force with nothing,

Creation always made from the cold swirling forces of Abyss,
Love always made from the abyss the part of the soul that never was,
She calls to me,
She creates me,
Recreates me,
Mother to me is she as I am made anew,

And no force on Earth, On Heavens, On the Forests,
Can contain for love is yet to be,
Always bleeding into reality,
Pumping the lovers heart,
With a new, ever-creating blood,

Baphomet’s prayer,
Chaos’s blessing
And so I cry to the Moon,

I love Youuuuuuu,
And taken, spaken on the lips of a thousand wolves it murmurs,
A hidden hum to life




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