The Old Tree and the Wise Man

Gravity born asunder from the distant polarity
Our Will forming and shaping the Cosmos
Invincible and dazed, inebriated by ecstasy
Our Gaze transforms the Malebolge, again and again
The Nether-horned Androgynous reaps the riddles of Empedokles
The circle is drawn and brought to the Seven Dimensions
What is Ôhy Name, Thy Nature, Thy Essence, Thy Hierarchy?
What is that terrible form, rising with tremor and smeared in Victory?
The Eyes of the Pneuma turn silent
Whence the Sun is clad in gold and sapphire gowns
The Alchemists chant and chant the Mantras of the Kings
Sung and sewn in sinister, tremendous seance
Thus and Thus, from the Alphas of Khem to the End of Creation
Our Voices crack the cluster of matter
Forth and below, beyond and above
We are baptized again in the salted waters of the Nile
From the glorious Land of Cush, to the edge of existence
We are the herd of Ezequiel, the Shamans of Kephra
Ôhe Alchemists of the blazing, Midnight Sun