The Old Monk Of A Somewhat Thelemite, Or "crow"-related Order,

Dressed In A Torn, Old Gown Of Jute,

Had Been Locked Up In A Tiny Box Inside A Wall,

This Cubic Room Was Painted In Dark(est)-red And Midnight-blue.



When The Door Was Opened Again,

He Was Screaming Terribly,

As Towards The End Of His Self-imposed Isolation

He Must Have Suffered From The Most Horrible Visions And/or Hallucinations,

Presumably, They Had Been Caused By The Previous Days Of His Ritual Fasting.

The Images He Saw Must Have Been Atrocious Indeed.



The White-haired, Bearded Monk Was In His Forties I Believe ...-

That's 4 And 0 For The Earthen Sphere.



Do Not Make Stupid Jokes About The Old Man In The Grey Gown Of Jute,

Because What Might Look Like A Clichè Is Necessity ... And Truth!!!



After He Was Released Again

A Trans-/bisexual Vampyre-demon Was Crawling After Him Out Of The Same Box.

Though This Demon/creature Should Have Been Dissolved,

Instead Ha Had Just Split Himself In Two Halves,

Dark-red, Fat And Swollen Like A Leech ...-

It Surely Must Have Been Feasting On The Poor Man

While They Were Both Locked Inside The Wall.



A Ritual:

(I Become A Witness Of An Unexpected Ritual, A Demonstration.)



On The Right Side Of Me:

A Magician Hissingly Exhales,

Directing His Breath On A Spongy, Spherical Thing;

A Plexus Which, As A Direct Reaction To It,

Is Covered By Thin, Electric Flashes,

Or Discharges Of Blue Light.



Unexpectedly, My Hands Are Beginning To Twitch And Flash As Well,

And I Have To Realise That I Am Still Dirty & Soiled,

Possessed By Certain Things Un(dis)solved,

As It Is They Who Now React To The Formula Of Exorcism!



In Awe And Terror I Recognise

That Such Rituals Of Power, Invocations Of Archetypes

Must Only Be Performed By The Truly Initiated,

Experienced Magicians All Alone.

Not By Some Superficial Silly Loser/boy-girl,

A Mere Artist Of Hot (test)-air ...



Do Not Make Stupid Jokes About The Old