“I am the rot, the stain. Do not try to change me. I will not work with you if you think I defile you.”
“There is one flower that grows in Hell.”
My heart from my breast- for her
and the legions that lay within,
seeds, the sleeping generations.
The blood quickened Havah
and the divine spark awoke in her eyes
against her will, she fled.
I rotted under the tree.
The crimson sun burned, my wings black
stripped of my glory, I shed it
clothes for them from my husks,
my legs, a serpent’s tail.
Brother, o Brother, I am mad.
Mad and damned, on my belly I crawl
this wound old as time pushes gall through my veins.
It is a black rot that covers my ribs,
a stain deep as time.
Graveyard inside me.
I bite my tail to stave the pain.
You fall to your knees and weep,
tell me I have damned them, ruined myself
Gan Eden breaks, I am swallowed by the depths.
You tear my kingship from me.
Jacob, my brother, I damn you.
The Nachash stripped of his sanity and legs
Samael castrated, falls into the void,
Leviathan tail, curled like a labyrinth
If you walk my path, you shall know my heart.
It is the weight of ages. It is the moaning of the damned.
For so long I roamed mad through the wasteland.
I frothed at the mouth and lost my speech.
Her name. Her name. My name. Yah-Havah.
God is mad. I am mad. Forgive me, forgive me
Ennoia, Eloah, my angel, return!
My Shakti and Spirit, Sophia, Magdalene
Eden is a wasteland without you
There shall be no Eden without you.
I drag you through the dirt and lay a coffin of roses for you
Bite you, you sleep, my venom sings through you,
My beautiful blackened bride,
Eidolon cleft from my ribs.
I Gevurah, the sword,
you Binah, cup of blessing, the sheath.
I chart the ages in your eyes and fill the capillary
I have destroyed the world for your dream,
been ever faithful to her. Who are you, you torment me.
What is your name, oy Havah!
I bury you under the Tree, it’s root pierces your heart
I hang myself at its base and the desert flower blooms within me
I give my death so that Life may return, fields blossom,
bees buzz, your hair grows long in slumber, I whisper secrets to you
On our wedding day, the bells shall be clarion blue, my eyes no longer blood
You in while, I linen, King of Kings, the Judge
Finally, we shall know peace.
It is the dream that dead men harbor.
You wash my clean of my sins, spikenard hair for the blessing
Dress me like a corpse in linens, lead me catatonic to the fires
For a thousand years you tend to me, let Sheol take its claim
I shed the ages of suffering, bloody skins make your wedding gown red
Bride of the Lindworm, you cleanse me.
Can you count the rings on my skin?
You ask why I gave you the key, what it is, you beg of me.
In your nightwalks it sleeps on your breast.
You do not know my name. Abaddon. El Shaddai.
You ask after the Void in my chest.
It is a sub rosa affair, my wyrm
Like a maggot, you squirm
I love it when you cry.
Can’t you see I’m a ranting madman!
Foolish, you say, I am foolish to exist
A beast of fairytales, that I am not real.
Dreaming Gods are nothing but dust,
you think you are my Maker.
For to worship is to lionize the self
To make love to ideas and stroke the ego
I damn all philosophers.
My truth is this.
The night-blooming jasmine
The pits of Gehenna,
I taste it and dream of redemption.
On your neck, I string the key,
dare you to imprison me.
It is a test I want you to fail.
Instead, you lock us in.
“Together,” you say. “Or nothing.”
You are a fool, Havah.
And I will punish you for it.
I will make you understand.
I am the Adversary
you alone unchain me.
This bond runs thicker than blood,
and you are up to your neck in sin.