poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Rite of passage
The slow rhythm of the dragon's breath will awaken fears ancient in your heart memories long forgot of the dark horrors buried in the heart of our Earth And in the depths of your psyche circuitry forged long ago will activate, subjugating breath, faith, will to the omnipotent drive of worship But fall not upon your knees in surrender, young Khabiddin for weakness before the beast is as loathsome as if your mission were to steal the Palantir she guards Nor should your breath be withheld for the fragrance of your terror is sweet in her nostrils Should you think silence will save you I say to thee: 'tis no shield from a creature that sleeps not But take heart, for the long horns will sound atop the mountain with all the strength in our lungs and the ardourous love of your kind calling out from deep in the heavens the exquisite breath of the Sephirah 'Tis with dragon breath that begins the primaeval ignition of your transcendence The unspeakable burning within at first intense, in your very core becomes a torture more cruel than you could ever know A second birth, wrought in the fire of dragon in the cleansing agony of your incineration in the dissolution of all you are and could have been Not all that are born are worthy of life Not all that is made can remain Go now Khabiddin with the ancient riddle of our kind and when your legs begin to tremble clutch it tightly in your mind and when all is lost hold it closest to your heart: To serve you cannot be but to be means to serve [31 V 2010]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
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