You won’t remember

And upon an August Year
I descended into Tartarus
And there across timeless winds
I coined my undesired blind determinants
I have ascended sealed, as a mortal god,
A seer and second-sighted fool,
It took me years to be wise, I lost
It just as quickly as I should,
And upon my head they put a crown,
And upon my forehead a sapphire stone,
A blind youth that went through fog and war,
And people – I tell you – never lied,
Their ugly lives exposed dark, so that
I hid from terror of their truth,
And hid in remorseless cages insanities,
Four closed wards of psychiatric prisons,
There I’ve seen wraiths torturing people’s minds,
And nurses with half-dead rotten faces,
That appeared to everyone as regular,
I’ve conversed with shades on cigarette breaks,
As the looney grandma said:
“I want to sit on lusts of men,
I want to command them all”
As her black eyes disappeared,
She asked me: “Would you like a biscuit?”
When I turned benevolent and righteous,
Heaven’s caesarized my wreathed temples,
When I have fell into awful possessions,
I was chased relentlessly akin to murderer,
With no atrocity committed,
When I’ve thrown filth and curses in the air
I’ve seen them dying with an “Even if”
They were punished for my attachment,
To destinies of hamartic extent!
When I sat on my invisible throne,
All Pluto’s armies saluted me,
And when I was murdered,
My birthday was vampire’s brothel,
And when the sunlit son was killed,
They cried upon the vaults,
That an oversoul threatened a lesser god,
And to console that angry illusionist
They have tormented my souless mind,
And the black-winged angels of Saturn,
Tested me as an unwilling overlord,
Tearing my head off, trashing my body,
As I stood mocking them in upright pride,
For the greater misfortunes befell me,
The worse the trials that appeared,
Stood by none but me!
As people and their magicians,
Proved themselves as nothing more than swine!
They’ve turned me into a mocking troupe,
A victim of the worlds they didn’t deserve to see.
And as horrors and night-mares
Rode me every night, and my body
Was swarming with maggots,
And my intestines were pulled by
Forbidden claws,
And my brain scratched out by
Priesthoods of Anubis,
And my skin dried, upon the spells
Of Seth’s priests, Thanathurgic
And the lady of the night saluted,
With all servitors of hers,
And the great Ishtar descended
And cherished that last love of mine,
Lady of power that was a mishap,
Upon my wish she became a star,
Althugh we parted without solace,
Turning hateful wretches with time,
And the corpse juice of witches,
That healed and cast a sickness upon me,
And the Strega of Italy that mothered me,
And the great and small spirits that were guest,
And the great and small demons that came to me,
And all multitudes that possessed me,
And the old Wehrmacht soldiers
Shouted and cried: “Fuhrer”
Though I was the woodworm, not of German land,
And undead inquisitors tortured my body,
Like every witch and sorceror’s share,
And I’ve grown a Tessalian Ram’s skull,
And that of living Stag too,
And the Goetic princes came to observe,
A curiosity upon the world,
They said it didn’t happen for centuries,
And Odin great took me for a raptured night-flight,
Hekate exposed two of thrice great mysteries,
And hells spurred my flesh,
So with a rowel I may command my Saturnine steed,
And each move a pain, and every thought an iron,

If I would remember all of it, I would collapse
I wrote just a few verses,
Like a cockroach in agony, so I sip my poison
Slowly, in unremembered poison of everyday
Tranquil indifferent arrogant naivety.

Saluting celestial vaults everyday,
Not willing to prolong this torture,
I turned away from this world a long time to go,
A deficient commander – that is all,
Now I’m on my way back, burning away this world,
With every breath and second, minute, year,
I stand as a defeated observer,
Do you think that was enough for a mortal to bear?

I tell you not! I had a vicious plan!
I haven’t conquered all to beg crawl!
Mere survival for a tyrant’s ethos,
Is like a spit from his mother’s womb!
It is not enough to be a cornered wolf,
When you could not be lion-serpent,
Better to be a black vulture,
Tearing them with Kronos-cycles apart!

But if anything remains of such a man,
I shirk my arms – you woulnd’t believe a second,
And even if – so what? You have your own life
To live. So in silence and strenght,
Solitude and bitterness I shall depart,
Finding motions of my past-future memories,
For me, heavens and hells to believe in,
Better to have friends on the other side,
Then to side with swine on this,
I few people I admitted to my counsel,
Majority are long defaced, as I have witnessed the final crescendo of this race!

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