'I was about to write an article on the Underworld Initiation, its relevance and meaning.
Instead this poem came through.'
Y.Zsigo November 2013
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..
.
Instead this poem came through.'
Y.Zsigo November 2013
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..
.
Underworld
May the guardian below open the gate to me.
May all that I am be consumed in Hell's fire.
May the cauldron of the Dark Mother destroy me.
Consume me, devour me, until I am no more.
May all that I am be consumed in Hell's fire.
May the cauldron of the Dark Mother destroy me.
Consume me, devour me, until I am no more.
Then from the last remaining embers will I remember.
I am nothing,
No one,
I am no more.
I am only that which calls me,
Which summons me from sleep.
That rises from the ashes,
A phoenix at Her feet.
...............
......
..
.
I am nothing,
No one,
I am no more.
I am only that which calls me,
Which summons me from sleep.
That rises from the ashes,
A phoenix at Her feet.
...............
......
..
.
The gateway to the underworld is guarded well by His Horned presence.
All that come before Him become dreadful or enamoured,
Run screaming 'Devil',
or die crying
' Beloved !'
He is neither image nor adoration,
Most are fooled by His dark conjuring,
Even those who claim to know Him.
All that come before Him become dreadful or enamoured,
Run screaming 'Devil',
or die crying
' Beloved !'
He is neither image nor adoration,
Most are fooled by His dark conjuring,
Even those who claim to know Him.
There is no service, there is only ' Initiation '
Those who have passed beyond attain ' The Great Secret 'and the treasure that lyes therein.
Those who claim to know Him, know nothing but the cool shadows of morning.
A pale refection of His true presence & purpose.
I shudder at their pomp and splendour,
At those that call Him friend.
They are the enemies of the Great Mother,
They are all charlatans and clowns.
May their noses red with poison,
From the dribble of their mouths.
Only them who never wanted,
The treasure from the first.
Only them who were dragged screaming,
To the gates of their demise.
Have seen the Splendid Lands,
Have beheld silverine smiles.
The Faery Host lied waiting,
To trick them from their fate.
With their glamours and their mischief,
With their spitefulness and hate.
Those who claim to know Him, know nothing but the cool shadows of morning.
A pale refection of His true presence & purpose.
I shudder at their pomp and splendour,
At those that call Him friend.
They are the enemies of the Great Mother,
They are all charlatans and clowns.
May their noses red with poison,
From the dribble of their mouths.
Only them who never wanted,
The treasure from the first.
Only them who were dragged screaming,
To the gates of their demise.
Have seen the Splendid Lands,
Have beheld silverine smiles.
The Faery Host lied waiting,
To trick them from their fate.
With their glamours and their mischief,
With their spitefulness and hate.
Only then must they transmute,
From the black unto the red.
Must they leave the land of living,
And lay amongst the dead.
For deep below this gravestone,
This barren castles keep.
They must wander with the aimless,
Never waking, never to sleep.
And only when the last gasp,
Falters from their breath.
When everything is over,
And all that's left is death.
Will Her servants come as Demons,
And devour skin and bone.
Desolate to her dark nature,
Hell hounds mouths that froth and foam.
From the black unto the red.
Must they leave the land of living,
And lay amongst the dead.
For deep below this gravestone,
This barren castles keep.
They must wander with the aimless,
Never waking, never to sleep.
And only when the last gasp,
Falters from their breath.
When everything is over,
And all that's left is death.
Will Her servants come as Demons,
And devour skin and bone.
Desolate to her dark nature,
Hell hounds mouths that froth and foam.
Then the silence of the ages,
A timeless endless night.
Nothing but oblivion,
Devoid of love or light.
Only then can you say something,
And tell me of your merit.
Your foolish wit, your mouths of shit,
Your impotent inheritance.
Those that were slain in this slumber,
Are no more to speak its name.
They were eaten by Her witches,
Not this pompous art you name.
They were devoured by Her calling,
And burnt upon Her flame.
The stake on which , you ache and twitch,
This Is no parlour game.
A timeless endless night.
Nothing but oblivion,
Devoid of love or light.
Only then can you say something,
And tell me of your merit.
Your foolish wit, your mouths of shit,
Your impotent inheritance.
Those that were slain in this slumber,
Are no more to speak its name.
They were eaten by Her witches,
Not this pompous art you name.
They were devoured by Her calling,
And burnt upon Her flame.
The stake on which , you ache and twitch,
This Is no parlour game.
And
The smoke burns
And
The cauldron bubbles
And the ugly man
Stands silent
As the chosen's
Skin boils
The smoke burns
And
The cauldron bubbles
And the ugly man
Stands silent
As the chosen's
Skin boils
.
.
Then
.
.
Silence
.
.
Quiet
.
.
.
.
.
Then
.
.
Silence
.
.
Quiet
.
.
.
.
All things are born from this,
All things spurn from Her,
All love and all horror,
Emerge from under
Her Dark
Skirt
.
Dark Mother oh, how deep do you roots go,
Deep as darkness deep,
Deep as darkness deep.
Dark Mother oh, how deep do your springs flow,
Deep as oceans deep,
Deep as oceans deep.
Dark Mother oh how deep do you flames go,
Deep as Annwn deep,
Deep as Annwn deep.
!
!
!
!
Deep as darkness deep,
Deep as darkness deep.
Dark Mother oh, how deep do your springs flow,
Deep as oceans deep,
Deep as oceans deep.
Dark Mother oh how deep do you flames go,
Deep as Annwn deep,
Deep as Annwn deep.
!
!
!
!
The animals come rushing in,
The wolf, the snake,
The beast.
And all the powers from within,
Burst forth
And are released.
The cry and breath of babies.
Born back
Into the world.
The lasting gasp,
That heaves and harps,
The seed slowly
Unfurls.
A winter that has broken.
The light
Before the Dawn.
A wound no longer open,
But healed
And now made strong.
The power from this potion,
Takes the soul
To flight.
Bursts forth
From this dark ocean,
Piercing the blackened night.
A Phoenix from the fire,
An Eagle
Soaring high.
The wolf, the snake,
The beast.
And all the powers from within,
Burst forth
And are released.
The cry and breath of babies.
Born back
Into the world.
The lasting gasp,
That heaves and harps,
The seed slowly
Unfurls.
A winter that has broken.
The light
Before the Dawn.
A wound no longer open,
But healed
And now made strong.
The power from this potion,
Takes the soul
To flight.
Bursts forth
From this dark ocean,
Piercing the blackened night.
A Phoenix from the fire,
An Eagle
Soaring high.
Back to the world of mortals,
Of men and
Lame excuse.
Sent from the flames of Annwn,
Unchained, released
Set loose.
Unbound by past condition,
Set free
Unleashed, untamed.
A pure living reflection,
Of all
That can't be named.
A man no more amongst men.
A stranger
In their sight.
A living breathing
TalisMan,
Born of the darkest night.
Of men and
Lame excuse.
Sent from the flames of Annwn,
Unchained, released
Set loose.
Unbound by past condition,
Set free
Unleashed, untamed.
A pure living reflection,
Of all
That can't be named.
A man no more amongst men.
A stranger
In their sight.
A living breathing
TalisMan,
Born of the darkest night.
Dont speak to me of MAGICK,
Until you have tasted flame.
And cried out in the blackeness,
Her ineffable name.
Only then will you know delight,
When breathing your final breath.
Will you then return to the Light,
And push back the Gates of Death.
Until you have tasted flame.
And cried out in the blackeness,
Her ineffable name.
Only then will you know delight,
When breathing your final breath.
Will you then return to the Light,
And push back the Gates of Death.
