Black candles dance to an overture
But I am drawn past their flickering lure
To the breathing forest that surrounds the
room
Where the vigilant trees push out of the womb
I sip the blood-red wine
My thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of
time
From knowledge drunk from the fountain of life
From Chaos born out of love and the scythe
The forest beckons with her
nocturnal call
To pull me close amid the baying of wolves
Where the bindings of christ are downtrodden with scorn
In the dank,
odiferous earth
We embrace like two lovers at death
A monument to the trapping of breath
As restriction is bled from the
veins in my neck
To drop roses on my marbled breast
I lust for the wind and the flurry of leaves
And the perfume of flesh on the
murderous breeze
To learn from the dark and the voices between
This is my will...
The forest whispers my name...again and
again
I walk the path
To the land of the Dark Immortals
Where the hungry ones will carry my soul
As the wild hunt careers
through the boughs
Come to me, my Pale Enchantress
In the moon of the woods we kiss
Artemis be near me
In the arms of
the ancient oak
Where daylight hangs by a lunar noose
And the horned, hidden one is re-invoked
The principle of
Evil
Evolution has been recalled
Beneath the spread of a Magickal Aeon
I stand enthralled
...In the whispering
forest
[March '93]
["Step by step I create odalisques. morbid lovers,]
[creatures marked by waiting and
hope.]
[isolated in a closed, embalmed world, entranced by dreams...]
[Madonnas, Empusas and other harem creatured suffering
from]
[anxiety,]
[desertion sorrow, passion and rapture, manifold nostalgia."]
[Soror Ionesco]