ESOZONE INCANDESCENT MASS
by

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Authors: Aleister Crowley, Friedrich Nietzsch, Ramaprasad Sema, Vincent Al Keen, Bhavagad Gita, Mahmud Shabistari, T.S. Eliot, ee cummings,William Blake, Rimbaud, Attar, Kabir, Rumi, Austin Osman Spare, Ikkyu, Hassan i Sabbah, ‘Ayn al-Qozat Hamadani,William S. Burroughs, Haryo, Shamsoddin Maghrebi, Oscar Wilde, Ovid, Charles the Bold, James Joyce, Savagi, Rainer Maria Rilke, Muhammad,the Bodhisattva’s Vow, Lao Tzu, Onan Cenobite, PDXO. Sema trans. Hixon, Sufi trans. P.L. Wilson & N. Poorjarody & Gita trans. Prabhavananda & C. Isherwood. Editor Vincent Al Keen. ©© CPAN.
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The Magickian
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RA HA KA!
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I give unto thee
[steeple hands above head]
My Life
[hands cross over heart]
My Love
[hands over genitals]
My Liberty
[arms outstretched]
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KAOS, Lord of All, IO PAN
[To the East - throw/shoot/cut/draw the pentagram of Air]
The BLACK QUEEN, Our Lady of the Stars
[To the North- throw/shoot/cut/draw the pentagram of Earth]
BABALON, Virgin of Eternity & Scarlet Whore of the World
[To the West- throw/shoot/cut/draw the pentagram Water]
The INVISIBLE KING, the Diamond Snake, the Sword & Sun
[To the South - throw/shoot/cut/draw the pentagram of Fire]
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The Angels are in the Quarters
The Prophets are in the Past
The Gods are Everywhere
Assist the Spell We Cast
About me burns Flaming Stars
Pentagrams Protect
In the column, Six-rayed Stars
Hexagrams Perfect
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I give unto thee
[steeple hands above head]
My Life
[hands cross over heart]
My Love
[hands over genitals]
My Liberty
[arms outstretched]
For Thine is the Kingdom
the Power and the Glory
ABRAHADABRA!
AMEN
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The Reverend
Authors: Vincent Al Keen, Aleister Crowley, Auston Osman Spare, the Bodhisattva’s Vow, Lao Tzu, Onan Cenobite, PDXO.
Editor – Vincent Al Keen. ©©C-PAN
ONCE THERE WAS, ONCE THERE WASN’T
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Nothing is.
Nothing becomes.
Nothing is not.
I AM.
I utter The Word.
I hear The Word.
The Word is broken up.
There is Knowledge. Knowledge of Relation.
These fragments are Creation.
The broken manifests Light.
Space is born from the Trinity - The Center, the Edge & the Way Between.
Time becomes, weaving the world through the Trinity of Inertia, Balance and Flux.
Everything is Nothing Manifesting as Perfectly Balancing Equations.
All Beings Fornications Become Endless Generations.
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Nature has made man from the elements, into something beyond clay and Hyle. I am I. We are We.
We are Rushing Fire & Deep Water, Whirling Air & the Green Golden Earth.
Burning Breathe, Salty Kiss, Windblown Seeds & Diamond Body.
We are Blood & Cum, Tears & Sweat.
We are Will Desire Mind & Flesh.
All ways to Heaven lead to flesh. Our ascent from Earth must start from where we stand: nothing is obtained except by the power of will, want & arté and our only medium is flesh — hand, I/eye & our perpetual sex – the very image of God.
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Through the mysterious chemistry of our believing our imaginings are real as we feel them. I teach the infinity of all things – of the gods, of men, of means. Any thing is a quantum of everything. All of Nature is a mirror.
I believe in the power of belief.
I believe in what I am doing.
I believe in what I am not saying.
The word that can be spoken is not the Word.
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Let Us Give Thanks to Creation, the Sire from All that Was, Is or Will Be is Born.
Sentient Beings are Numberless,
I Vow to Awaken All.
Delusions are Limitless,
I Vow to Extinguish All.
The Way’s Gates are Endless,
I Vow to Enter All.
Enlightenment is Infinite,
I Vow to Attain All.
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…To those who made good on that Promise, Let Us Give Thanks.
To All the Blessed Dead who Crossed the Desert,
From the Sea they Came & To the Sea they go.
Where they go they spill water, that one day the desert will flower into a Garden.
To Robert Anton Wilson, the Smiling Skeptic Saint, the most recently passed of those whose light makes the world bright.
To Bill Hicks, who preached fire against the Theater of Spectacle.
To William S. Burroughs, the Nova Sharif who wrote Nothing is Real, We can Do What we Like.
To Jhon Balance ov COIL ov the Celestial Black Dog Orchestra.
To Hunter S. Thompson, whose words were bullets, whose tongue was a gun.
To Kerry Thornley and Greg Hill who pulled down religion’s pants and pinched the Goddess’ cheek.
To Anton LaVey, “HAIL SATAN!”, who said the throne of God is empty, take a seat.
To Timothy Leary & Terrance McKenna and their psychedelic sacraments.
To Buckminster Fuller, the Trimtab on this spaceship Earth.
To Philip K. Dick who saw thru the Glass Darkly, and then Face to Face.
To Maya Deren, capturing the invisible divine riders.
To Brion Gysin, who cut words loose from their moorings to whirl in storms through the air.
To Carlos Castenada, who leapt off a cliff and learned to fly.
To Jack Belarion Parsons, turned to Living Flame through his Folly.
To Alan Türing, the Enigma.
To Austin Osman Spare the Zöetic Sorcerer, creating Art from the Abyss.
To Aleister Crowley, TO MEGA THERION, whose Word Thelema Will be the Future.
To James Joyce, bard of an omni-lingual Kabbala.
To Nikola Tesla, the Electrical Alchemist.
To Noble Drew Ali, American prophet of the Seven Seals.
To Friedrich Nietzsche, the Philosopher Hammering Dynamite.
To His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Joshua Norton, ruler of an Imaginal Kingdom.
To Marie Laveau & Doctor John, Voodoo sovereigns of the Quarters.
To William Blake, Who Strode through the Doors of Perception into Infinity.
To the poets and artists who made dreams flesh.
To the Revolutionaries who threw off the yoke of Kings from the World and freed Men from serfdom. To all Rebels who cast off their bonds.
To John Dee & Edward Kelley and their Angelic Conversation.
To the Old Man of the Mountains & his Son, who declared “Ruzi-i Qiyamat! The Chains of the Law have been broken Forever!”
To the Builders and Architects who built true.
To the Knights, Ksatriyas & Kensai who deserved the title Sir.
To Tantrics and Yogis covered in flowers and ash, in bliss.
To the True Vine, the Wine in the Desert.
To the Green Man of the Sands, Khezr.
To the Sufis drunk on their blood’s wine.
To those who Awoke from Illusion to the Real.
To the Sages on the Way that cannot be mapped.
To Bodhidharma, taking the Dharma to Shaolin and Zen.
To those who brought Fire - Prometheus, Zarathustra and Lucifer.
To the Witches, their Sorcery, Sabbaths and Spells.
To the Shamen on quests through worlds of starlight.
To the Prophets whose Word cannot be spoken.
Sons of the Lion and the Snake! To the invisible ones, unnamed and illuminated. We commemorate those worthy ones that were and are and are to come. Blessed be their Names. May their Great Work be accomplished!
We here aMass, to hear the Wisdom of these Sages, Gathered thru the Ages, Distilled 210 Proof.
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The Invisible King
Authors: Mahmud Shabistari, Shamsoddin Maghrebi, Bhagavad Gita, Rainer Maria Rilke, Muhammad, Aleister Crowley, ‘Ayn al-Qozat Hamadani, Ramaprasad Sema. Editor Vincent Al Keen. Sufi trans. P.L. Wilson & N. Poorjarody & Gita trans. Prabhavananda & C. Isherwood. ©© CPAN
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God was asked why creation came into being. “I was a hidden treasure. I longed to be known, so I created all of creation.”
Early successes, Creation’s pampered favorites,
mountain-ranges, peaks growing red in the dawn
of all Beginning, - pollen of the flowering godhead,
joints of pure light, corridors, stairways, thrones,
space formed from essence, shields made of ecstasy,
storms of emotion whirled into rapture.
The stars are but sparks from the forges of his smiths . . . .”
Know the world from end to end is a mirror;
In each atom a hundred suns are concealed.
If you pierce the heart of a single drop of water,
From it will flow a hundred clear oceans;
If you look intently at each speck of dust,
In it you will see a thousand beings,
A gnat in its limbs is like an elephant;
In name a drop of water resembles the Nile,
In the heart of a barley-corn is stored an hundred harvests,
Within a mustard-seed a world exists,
In an insect's wing is a cosmos of life.
Range upon range of cliffs clouds and rivers all deliver their profound sermons. If you stop to think, you will be bewildered.
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My Lord hides Himself, peeks out from the collar
of the universe, adorns Himself with scarves of spirit and flesh;
arrayed in gowns of body and soul He finds
a thousand assemblies crowded with Himself,
draws up His armies on the field
throws the world into battle and strife:
so that the glory of her may be always drunken, and vexed in itself.
Unrest and turmoil boil up from the planet as the army of His loveliness begins its charge.
From swirling clouds of black night his eye rises:
Child, woman, man – all become
the place of manifestation of His beauty’s sun:
He speaks from every mouth, that the tale of His own adventures might reach His own ears.
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Sire,
To Know you is to be Alive as you are.
You are the Master of what Is.
You are the flame that burns in every heart of man, and in the core of every star. You are Life, and the giver of Life, yet therefore is the knowledge of you is the knowledge of death.
The Onewho Causes, the Maker, the Witness, the Presence, the Self-born, the Conqeror, the Judge, the Exalted, the Friend, the Artist, the Truth.
The Giver of Mercy in the Beginning, and the End.
You are Time without measure. The Tree of Being.
The axle in the Wheel, the center in the sphere.
Without your Creation, there would be no other, nothing but essence, no space, no time.
You are hidden in everything I see.
You are the Treasure as She is the Labyrith.
As she is the Flower, you are the eternal Seed.
Your face is equal
To all creation,
Hating none, Loving none.
Whatever wish men bring you in worship,
That wish you grant them.
Whatever path men travel
Is your path:
No matter where they walk
It leads to you.
My Invisible King
Your face is everywhere.
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All My desire has been accomplished thru You,
Gaining deliverance from self,
My heart was ignorant of its bounds,
Veiled from You by a hundred veils
Of vanity, conceit, and illusion.
He Who splashed a thousand worlds with color
How can He buy the paint of “I and thou”?
Colors, colors – nothing but whim and fantasy;
HE is colorless, and one must adopt his hue.
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God, Lord of the Worlds
I know and I know that I know
Liberation from the strange illusion of not knowing has been attained only through you.
What more is there for you to give me or withhold from me?
No one can remove this realization.
Not even you.
I am not I; I am but a hollow tube to bring down Fire from Heaven.
I am youth eternal and force infinite.
Let me sing out jubilation and praise to assenting angels
Let not even one of the clearly-struck hammers of my heart
fail to sound because of a slack, a doubtful,
or a broken string. Let my face be radiant.
Your greatness I proclaim though my breath is too short for such praise.
I see the divine form, speaking through innumberable mouths, seeing with myriad eyes, of marvelous aspects, adorned with celestiel ornaments, wielding heavenly weapons, wearing garlands made from the flowers of paradise, full of revelation, resplendent, boundless reward.
Should a thousand suns rise as one in the sky, such is the glory.
My Lord reclines on the Serpent called Endless.
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The Universe: His wine cellar;
The atom’s heart: His measuring cup.
Intellect is drunk, earth drunk, sky drunk
heaven perplexed with Him, restlessly seeking,
Love in its heart, hoping at least
for a single whiff of the fragrance
of that wine, that clear wine the angels drank
from that immaterial pot, a sip of the dregs,
the rest poured out upon the dust:
one sip, and the Elements whirl in drunken dance
falling now into water, now in blazing fire.
And from the smell of that spilled cup
man rises from the dust and soars to heaven.
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The Black Queen
Authors: Ramaprasad Sema (Hixon trans) Aleister Crowley, Friedrich Nietzsch, James Joyce, Savagi, Mahmud Shabistari, Austin Osman Spare. Editor Vincent Al Keen. ©© CPAN.
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I call on my Mother.
I call on the Great Mother.
I call on Mother Reality.
This universe, with its endless dimensions & host of worlds
exists only within her luminous womb of power.
Can you sense how vast she is? Her unspeakable infinity!
All born to her - live in her - die from her
Earth, air, water, fire, & aether
are simply her projected forms
The incomparable light of her beauty
pervades the universe
She who has eyes let her see
Whoever gazes upon this radiant blackness
falls eternally in love
and feels no attraction to any other,
discovering everywhere only her.
My Black Queen Of All Space
The universe is a boundless ocean
that humbly touches your feet
the void between stars your only covering.
“Where is this brilliant Lady,
this Black Light beyond luminosity?
O Stabat Mater,
Though I was lost inside you,
By following your star,
I found you in you.
Mother Reality, I am your Child.
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My Lady...
Skin the Color of Clear Night
Her flying hair veils the sun
Moon falls to earth in swoon
Her presence is like a breaking Storm
Who is she? Who is she?
Not protected by armor or garments
She stands in the Chaos of Conflict Radiantly Smiling
Her Thunderous Laughter Rings out Like a Bell
She is Fearless at Play. Perfectly Free.
Her long Black Tresses swirl Like a Tree in a Gale
Eyes of Wisdom, See Truth & Beauty
Lips of Compassion, Speak Mercy & Desire,
Her Breasts brim with the Honey of Rapture
The Loveliness of her Flesh
Consumes every limited gaze
In the Fire of Naked Glory.
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Adam saw
the black mole
on your wheat-colored cheek:
tricked by the bait
he fell into
the snare –
Western wind
untied
the riband
of your hair
dark tresses
smothered your
luminous face
and the armies
of Empire
suffered a hundred defeats
at the hands of your lovers
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The Holy Mother of the Stars
Is enthroned upon the jewel island of essence
in the transparent sea of ultimacy.
She Drinks from the Chalice of Eternity,
Smiling like a crescent Moon.
The Brilliance of her Rubies Light the Sky Red
& the Gardens of her Eight Perfections Bear more Fruit
Than all the wishing tress of Heaven.
Mother, thy Primordial Beauty sends me to Paradise.
I have gone mad for the love of you.
You are the naked intensity of divine creativity,
The very touch of your kissing lips
Has plunged the Lord of All Worlds,
into bright, still, formless ecstasy.
She gives joy on Earth, knowledge not faith in life, in death peace. She teaches the Rites of Spring & the Heart’s Call. Her Kiss regenerates the world, the little world her sister.
She is the free play of love, unveiling universal manifestation.
She is the Law called Lawlessness.
Her Secret Nature is All Things Fornicating All of the Time.
Unity Fragmented for the Sake of Union.
Above all things there stands the heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness.
Everything goes, everything returns; eternally rolls the wheel of existence. Everything dies, everything blossoms forth; eternally revolves the year of existence.
Everything breaks, everything is formed anew; eternity builds itself the same house of existence. All things separate, all things again marry; eternally true to itself remains the ring of existence.
Every moment begins existence, around every 'Here' rolls the ball 'There.' The middle is everywhere. Crooked is the path of eternity.
Said ye ever Yea to one joy? O my friends, then said ye Yea also unto all woe. All things are enlinked, enlaced and enamoured.
My Lady Calls,
TO MH! TO MH!
If you want to find her, look.
Open your arms, if you want to be held.
The Goddess of Wisdom accepts no bribes.
The only thing she cares for is Love.
Pure Love.
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I live in the mysterious kingdom of my Lady, Mother of the nations.
Babalon, the City of Stars
My every step is within the borders of her realm.
I am my Queen’s Agent, she is my exalted sovereign.
Her will flows thru me like the ocean thru an empty shell.
By seeking her true nature
I have tasted the four fruits of highest aspiration:
righteousness, power, delight, illumination.
My Lady’s grace has adorned me with the priceless gems of
compassion, clarity, beauty, intensity.
I Testify,
Having Seen the Truth thru her Incomparable Light.
This woman empowered by the Goddess
boldly addresses the Demon King
who hides deep within the human mind:
O Monarch of Misery
give up your hopeless dispute with my Queen.
I am no longer under the illusion of your rule,
knowing her alone to be my essence.
By singing her name with passion
I have transformed my being
into a expression of her being.
Last night I tried
to write about Sorrow
fire dripped
on the page
smoke rose
from the tip
of my pen.
Beware, Death, when you see me, you will be terrified!
I sing with adamantine conviction:
The world of nature and culture
is an intricate magical display.
You have not yet encountered the brilliant Enchantress, above us and in us.
Do you dare to gaze upon her,
O self-serving mind and sense?
She manifests as eternal Goddess,
etheric beings, and as earthly women.
She is so powerful,
even mentioning her name destroys delusion.
She is so beautiful
that God lies blissfully vanquished beneath
her dancing feet.
My Lady Rides a Lion Across Heaven
Jai Kali! Om Tara Ma! Om Ma Nuit!
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In the name of Annah the Allmaziful, the Everliving,
the Bringer of Plurabilities, haloed be her eve,
her singtime sung, her rill be run, unhemmed as it is uneven.
My Lady’s naked embrance has destroyed the narrow hopes
of every limited self in creation
by consuming objective and subjective worlds
in ecstatic conflagration.
None will survive the fury of her illumination.
I am transported in ecstasy! I am absorbed utterly!
You cannot imagine the secret nature of her Majesty.
Holy Mother,
my entire being is breaking apart.
There is nothing left but you.
The Burning Prince
Authors: Friedrich Nietzsche, Aleister Crowley, T.S. Eliot, ee cummings, Bhavagad Gita, Mahmud Shabistari, William Blake, Ramaprasad Sema, Rimbaud, Attar, Kabir, Rumi, Austin Osman Spare, Vincent Al Keen, Ikkyu, Hassan i Sabbah, William S. Burroughs, Haryo, Oscar Wilde, Ovid, Charles the Bold. Editor Vincent Al Keen. ©©CPAN
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The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
We laugh with our parents when we laugh with the sun.
Everyone, every man and every woman is a star.
The Company of Heaven. The Children of God.
My Lord
Thy Name is holy.
Thy Kingdom is come.
Thy Will is done.
Here is the Flesh.
Here is the Blood.
Bring us Thru Temptation!
Deliver us from Good and Evil!
That Mine as Thine be the Crown of the Kingdom.
My Lady
I am Thy Hand.
Every mission you send me on fills me with vibrant song.
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Idle children
Held in thrall,
Lack of heart
Has cost my life.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
Some say that the wish for revelation is presumption and that no mere human can attain them. But isn’t it better to sacrifice one’s life in pursuit of this desire than to be identified with a business? If you give yourself up to this commerce, above all with guile, will you be able to make your heart an ocean of love? Damn Reason. Curse Because. Fuck Gelt.
So long as we do not die to ourselves, and so long as we are bound to someone or something, we shall never be free.
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HearD Evil buried, See Good dead,
now fearers worship Much and Quick;
loudly for Truth have liars pled,
badness not being felt as bad,
itself thinks goodness what is meek;
obey says toc,submit says tic,
when Souls are outlawed,Hearts are sick,
Hearts being sick,Minds nothing can:
if Hate's a game and Love's a fuck
who dares to call himself a man?
If saying free gave liberation
saying candy made your mouth sweet,
saying fire kept you warm,
saying water quenched thirst,
saying food banished hunger,
then the whole world would be free.
Who cares to seek perfect freedom? One man, perhaps in many thousands.And who attains it?
Cast aside vain tales of mystic visions and magical powers,
Dream not of marvels, miracles, or any life but this,
For your miracle is contained in being the Truth;
All else is pride, conceit, and illusion of existence.
Where is your sword?
Draw it and slash the veils of Illusion to pieces.
Human life is a fire - the father’s flint, the mother’s stone, and the spark is the child.
We burn up and out in time.
You’re a bit of sky
reflected in a jar
fated to shatter
Mektoub.
What is the sword that cuts through a wind blown hair?
“Each branch of the coral, embraces the bright moon.”
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now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened
Truly being here is glorious. I see All. Pan. Drunken in its Pure Ultimatacy. When this is my Eye, When I am Real, When my right hand holds allness and my left hand is nothingness, Then I am the living truth.
I live in mine own light, I drink again into myself the flames that break forth from me. I learned to walk; since then have I let myself run. I learned to fly; since then I do not need pushing in order to move from a spot. A God dances in me.
I am a Hawk above the Desert.
Sing me a new song: so that the world is transfigured and all the heavens rejoice.
NOTHING IS TRUE, ALL IS LAWFUL
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We, whose task is wakefulness itself - we do not at all want to enter into the kingdom of heaven: we have become men - so we want the kingdom of earth.
We strive not against men, but principalities and powers.
“Je combats l’universelle araignée!” [“I fight the universal spider.”]
Ye lonesome ones of today, ye seceding ones, ye seekers, brothers and sisters, ye shall one day be a people. Wisdom says: be strong! Then canst thou bear more joy. It will be blessedness to impress your hand on millennia as on wax.
Nitimur In Vetitum. [“We strive for the forbidden.”]
Fear not at all; fear neither men nor Fates, nor gods, nor anything. Money fear not, nor laughter of the foolish folk, nor any other power in heaven or upon the earth or under the earth. She is your refuge as He your light. Courage is your armour. Success is your proof. Die, and you win heaven. Conquer, and you enjoy the earth.
Better a fallen star than never a burst of light.
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What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in violent air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
To Rome then I came
Burning burning burning
MINUTES TO GO.
MINUTES TO GO.
“Hurry up please its time…”
THIS IS A FICTION. JOIN THE FACTION