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Selcæiös Feb 2018
The Name's Selcæiös N.V. Witega

The N.V.'ll only **** you if you're a curious cat.

   Your Tech-Age Völva
Onliest Healer
Avant-garde Seeress
& Upping the Ante
Once under my Wing
--a Sui Generis sorta catalyst

   But take note,
I'm only here for your healing
---and occasionally to quench the thirst
for all types of Second Sight
weaving, seething, and
any and all other appealing witchy hype

   And this niche in the Craft
Contingently consecrates
--you know. when it rains, it pours--
the Superseding of Spirit;

   Under the Utopia of Unorthodox Psychotomimetic Wonders
enthralled by your scintillating mishap to wander
Gracefully falling face-first into
     The Empath's Curse
in other words, to come to terms with Sonder

   Dyed in the wool
lies the
Fluorescent & Incanting Sparks
of the
out-of-place-even-for-you
outre wanders

   To me though,
It's vividly violent & evincing
Capitulated roars,
Sequestered howls,

   Once Upon a Time
the proud growls morphed
to crying whines
   'Carpe Omnis Scintilla'
In Perpetuum,
to no avail.

  Your Sui Generis Hedge-Rider
Call me Selaecios N.V.
or Selcaeia, if you like
the sting of serpentine strides

  I'll proudly continue to
uphold this chaotically labile path
as it's my Labyrinthine Rite

  Taking under Wing
Protecting & Defending
Fellow Humans & Spirits alike.
Johnny Noiπ Feb 2018
Tis a dilemma to draw down the moon
center of circle & her hair entwined;
the staff raised, the incantation recited;
no real words just babble that comes
through the spirit channeling through
out of the wizard's lips to invoke a she
who is not real smoky doppelganger
of true love with every visage in place;
nightmare's illusion in mortal man's
beauty & enthralled by life itself
no goddess she but a wraith lifted
from beneath the earth; shadowy shade
who though intangible has scales
for flesh slick & smooth as a shark's;
as she takes him in her tentacled arms &
for once it is he who swoons
in vampyr's embrace of loving succubus
dedicated completely to Medusa
Selcæiös Jan 2018
--- She who cannot hex, cannot heal
She who cannot curse, cannot cure. ---

She's a sweet little thing
a Moonflower’s paradigm
enjoying isolation and slumber by day
waking up to start her magick pursuits around society's bedtime

Some spells & her abilities, this Völva has bound to her mane
But for her, that's a better vessel than a pendant on a chain
And remember: When she dances,
if she shakes her hair, her power is twice obtained.

So if you're hooked on schadenfreude,
Cease and desist; Please knock that **** off.
Because, at the very least,
you'll be returned with what you've caused.

But if someone's harming you
or you're being hurt, but confused
whether the root of tormenting
brews with a What or a Who

Go ahead, take a deep breath
Dolour will be overcame
your Spirit's to be momentarily reclaimed
the Völva's arrived
and her prowess resides with
cures and curses alike.

--- She who cannot hex, cannot heal
She who cannot curse, cannot cure. ---
Please Curse Responsibly
Strike the match
Write it as my epitath
dance in heaven
and never come back

I am consumed
by the magick moon
smell the perfume
of the girls on the prowl

I made a star
I made it alive
he is everywhere you are
You cannot die

As I know
death is an illusion
You have one soul
You dance on the ocean

I am consumed
by the magick moon
smell the perfume
of the girls on the prowl

Join the circle
Come get it out
Pay your homage
To the one all about

As I see
Through the darkness
and sail on the sea
With his tender caress

I am consumed
by the magick moon
smell the perfume
of the girls on the prowl

The beautiful creatures
With the beautiful features
Who've been condemned and used
Since of the beginning of the ruse

Oh star child
You who run wild
come dance awhile
with me and everyone

I am consumed
by the magick moon
smell the perfume
of the girls on the prowl

The sound of the owl
The glistening of the star sky
The sensual world and its howl
With my dog mask I howl for you

As I view
The girls dancing
Around the fire
Filled with desire

I am consumed
by the magick moon
smell the perfume
of the girls on the prowl

of the girls on the prowl
of the girls on the prowl
of the girls on the prowl
of the girls on the prowl
David Crum Jan 2017
Burning occult logic.
A secret sacred savored fire.
Burn so bright it'll eat you alive.
Bright like a 2 am booklight tired
eyes so hungry for knowledge they yawn like little mouths
like your mouth...yawning, man do you know what time it is?
Time to learn, and read and be and burn.
Withering, withering, withering down.
A spiral of emptiness and weakness in my own heart.
A sickly form of hate.
A frail figure of shadows and misery and memorie.

O! and what is the field of golden corn compared to the bruise on your throat.
Choked by the ******* of godliness, when she is called life///when she is called death.

Forced to spit out your last drop of blood, through your pharynx///through your eyes.

Sexually with the knife in hand. Like stone to butter, stabbing within the heart of the devil. Like the beast with three *****, who carries the devil in his sinful testicles...you stab stab stab at the flesh of your own chest.

No hair after the fire, no blood after the lust.

The sexuality which assaults YOUR OWN SANITY. It becomes you.

Withering and withering within the HELL of your own spiral.

O! and when are you to become the devil within the sac of the beast?

To be born and reborn again within the light of the sun.

Burning away in a pool of blood that you craved forever.

Burning back together in a pool of ***** that you craved forever.

O! and who are you when you are left naked and alone by your own hand in a pool of hate that you craved forever, I asked myself.
Egeria Litha Nov 2016
If my sexuality consistently gets used
Against me
Then it becomes my weapon
The wisdom that a man's greatest weakness
Is simultaneously his greatest strength
Becomes realized
Reflected in domesticated animals
We give up our instincts
In an environment where the wild
Doesn't belong
After years of suffering
I grab my wand for the first time
Although lifetimes ago I may have done so
This time matters the most
Because it is happening now
I grab my wand and wave it through the air
the journey to learn how to use my Magick power
Enemies draw closer
Only to get blasted down by light
Aum harnessed from my throat
I will use fire to protect my life
Hovering owls in the night
All according to plan
Magic birds witness
The transpiring of balance
Coming to this planet in need of healing
Divine feminine we are here
Mary Magdelene is near
Absolutely have no fear
Lilith is on the sidelines
Visiting dark beings
In human minds
Kali is by her side
Tongue hanging out
***** for fresh heads in her multiple hands
Yemaya stirs in the ocean
She howls, "Just leave me alone!"
As Bolon Ik traverses time away from her twin flame for longer than she can bear
Exposed in a terrifying way
But men cannot Divert their eyes
As The most beautiful women
Exemplified
Turns some into stone,
Others to salt,
Ashes,
And only the righteous of souls -
Deliverance as The Call To Rise
Damon Nestor Oct 2016
Upon a frigid autumn morn,
As Apollo’s charge shines hazily through a heavenly shroud,
Ancient spires through fog are born.
Whilst a bitter breath beats down from hills above,
Shorn foliage coats the land,
And shadows of days to come wait just below.
Lines flow from a fool’s hand,
While the visage of a goddess in a shadowy shell
Lies just beyond the veil.
Haunted days of hallowed origin loom upon the horizon,
Soon spectral visitors may come hail;
The fall of night shall cull them from darkest depths.
Within a great northern port,
A cosmic wizard weaves a grand web of enchantment,
Entrancing all from his dark court.
Now the frigid morning winds further towards icy darkness,
As mad ramblings do depart
For distant eyes and minds to forever feast upon.
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