Upon This Unprofitable Throne

Absolute emptiness
No colour no form no substance
It is form me
That all this desolation proceeds
So it has been ever
So must it ever be
From me pour down the fires of life continually upon the earth from me flow
down the river of water oil and me
Therefor am I lonely and horrible
Upon this unprofitable throne
I am the who was before the beginning
And in my desolation I cried aloud saying
Let me behold the countenance in the concave of the abyss
It was black and empty and distorted that was (once) invisible and pure
So it has been ever
So must I ever be
From me comes forth the wind that bears the seed of all upon it’s bosom
From me comes forth the earth in her unspeakable variety
All comes from me naught comes to me
I am lonely and horrible upon his throne