Sometimes you open your eyes
And see nothing.
Sometimes you close your eyes
And it's all right there.

Sometimes my tarot cards all fold,
And my crystal ball fogs over.
Sometimes the runes don't read,
And the lines on your palms are just scars.

Sometimes the pendulum won't swing,
And the birds in the bottletree
Won't sing.

But the sky is violent red,
So maybe the sunlight
Will come again.

So lay your crystals
By the windowsill,
And light your candles
In your circle.

Wish and pray and wish and pray
But in the end
Fate is what you make it,
And no amount of darkness
Can black out my colors.

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.

If the Sacred Fire of Vesta went out, it meant one of two things:
             meant
1. Rome was in danger;
                                                  meant
2. A Vestal ******, a guardian of the flame, was having ***.  
Chastity                                      and                                       fire
are two attributes that are directly correlated.  If one is lost,
the other will follow.  Trust me.  This is fact:
                                                                ­                 only ****** women
                                                                ­                   can be celebrated.

The ****** Mary,
                                the ****** goddesses,
                                                      ­                 the way **** was seen as a crime
                                                           ­        against the father, not the daughter:
                            women
                     ­         must
                            remain
                ­              pure.  

Do not eat the pomegranate seeds,
do not touch the fruit of knowledge.  A
                                                   ­                    statue of a young boy
                                                             ­              holding an apple
                                               does not hold
                                        the same connotation
as a woman holding an apple.  Offering it to a man who
could have refused.  Getting blamed for the fall from Eden.  

                           A woman
with a snake draped around her body is not Eve,
is Lilith, but it’s close enough.  They are both to blame for
all the evils of the world, so what does it really matter anyway?  Women
are more susceptible to wavering in their faith in God,
to worshipping the devil, to practicing witchcraft—

            The flames are out.  Rome is not safe.  A “******” is buried
            alive for her sin.  Lilith is slaughtering women in childbirth.  
            Babies  are  dying.   A  man  is  celebrated  for  his  multiple
            lovers.   ****  shaming  in  79  AD.    The  beds   in   Pompeii
            brothels are made of stone.   St.  Cecilia  is  face  down in the
            dirt.   Women on the same level as slaves,  if not lower.  The
                                     goddess Vesta as a housewife.

Payment with blood,
opening wounds for passage.

Travel unto the dark,
selling one's soul to evil.

Bathing in the blood of the unworthy,
bound by evil ambition.

Sacrifice and judgement,
worthy and unworthy.

The world will change,
and so will my ideal of innocence.

The Orions, mysterious forces who contacts the witch,
When She is ready to be sworn,
In secret they teach Her how much the soul is rich,
Some think they're are Goddesses, Spirits or even Norn,

She studies all truths in secret,
Energy is always knowledge,
But due to humanity's key weakness,
Their own Truth, Potential, they can't acknowledge!

She studies Magik and Spirituality,
Nothing more commoners hate: a shining light,
Knowing witches didn't win often in history,
Alone She stands, alone She became bright.

Yet one day The Orions appear,
For the Witch is now ready,
She becomes Wise, all fears disappear,
The Illumined path she travels; Perceptive and Steady.

Truly when you are truly yourself,
You see life's true beauty,
And the Witch is forever blessed,
One day...
She will join the Orions, Becoming A Witch for Eternity

When his familiars’ pounced
a little too roughly on the davenport,
the mysteries of the cosmos
flailed about as his soft,
satin bag took a tumble…
Citrine and agate tap-danced
under the bed, as quartz
whizzed wildly through the air
like a shooting star. Opal spun about
like a fiery pirouette, and amethyst –
finding it’s way on the windowsill,
bloomed a kaleidoscope of larkspur
in the sun.

Hello old friend
it's time again for flannel shirts
and dead leaves
bitter coffee and cold breezes
jack o' lanterns are our totem
and 4am that knows all our secrets.
its autumn again and the veil is thin
I hope the witching hours Find you well

Burn his sigil
into soft flesh
of wrist or
maybe
of throat
to set free
the music
from the
Soul