Misrule

By day seek the heights of the sun
And by midnight its abode in hell
Where we are drunk upon the blood-wine
That spills from the grape wine
Of old Dionysus well
I behold self in the black of the moonless night
Another death, another doom to foretell
To old Baphomet
I proffer this life
Shedding blood and a dark soul to sell
Misrule!
Misrule!
Oh, how wise is the fool
Of empty spaces
Barren places
The Devil’s illumination
Misrule!
Misrule!
Oh how wise is the fool
Of empty spaces
Desolation
The Devil’s exaltation
By Night we seek the sun in its nadir
And by day its glorius heights
As we glut upon the sacrament
Offered up by self-interment
Within the intellect of Old Night
I beseech the Other, my refletion
My brother, another life
Won through strife and the toll of Death’s bell
Before Persephone I ground all dismay
And make a paradise of the grandeur of hell
Misrule!
Misrule!
Oh, how wise is the fool
Of empty spaces
Barren places
The Devil’s illumination
Misrule!
Misrule!
Oh, how wise is the fool
Of empty spaces
Desolation
The Devil’s Exaltation
Towards the gate of the Zeroth
Thrust imafination’s divine key
Like the spear of saint longinus
To pierce the body of his highness
And let his blood run endlessly free
To fall unto me! To fal unto me!
And now i shall know
And now I shall see
The All which revolves about the nail
Turns ever paradoxically!