Want to friend Crow? You need to log in or join our community, first! It's fast, free and easy.
Do you know about the Black Bird? Aleister Crowly, they say allot about his extreme endeavours, from mountaineering to sex magic and all manner of practices derived from a synthesis of Eastern religions and ancient and modern demonology. But the question mark is what you should follow. It is a necessity and not a pleasure, that puts you on this road. Trace the letters with your finger, and you can see the face of the woman who drew them, before she opened her wrists. While swirling waters washed away the red. But where did it go? In any case all but the most adept find most of his occult writing incomprehensible. But he will show you. They, who transcend the meat, will lead you from circle to circle, canto to canto – ferry you across into eternal dark on the opposite side – to sin’s profound abyss. It is an in-between place, located in the constellation-geometry of a needle-tracked arm – second scar to the right, and straight on till mourning. But to see the denizens of the harsh and grating rhymes that benefit that melancholy hole is not what I am writing about. To see the devils that strut through the wasteland. The imps skulk, slaves to the other races. Giants of demonoid flesh and burnt iron shake the scabrous ground with their stride. See how they clamber towards any crack in Hell. A sight to behold in on itself. But you did not come for the children of Hell. You came for one of its misunderstood missionary that had been described as a foot note by a leading scholar of demonology, a creature he described as not being what others had thought. |
These circles are the record I leave behind. A broken record, a feeble repetition of the being I once was and now discard. I could not return to humanity even did I wish it. Non sum quails eram. |
KRYCEK: JOYCE: |
KRYCEK: JOYCE: |
KRYCEK: JOYCE: |
KRYCEK: JOYCE: |