Righteousness In Beauty

there is a pentagram

and now the stone is gone

the whole heaven is black

the blackness of a mighty angel

his face and his wings and his rove and his armour all black

blow all your trumpets

for I will loose my hands from the mouth of the lion

and his roaring shall enkindle the worlds

I am he that swallowed up

death and victory

like the ash of dried leaves

the worlds are blown before me

let the stars burn in the fire of my nostrils

let the god and the spirits and the demons and the angels

be as motes dancing in the beam of my eye

is is hell unquenchable

bondslave of the curse

we give nothing

we take all