And yes they were the best of times ,
of love and tears and
memory .
Where dreamt I slept black
granite slab deep ,
cold and sans regret .
☆
Night-birds sang above my
head ,
dead lovers called my
name .
While in my lonely dreaming ,
perfect love became the grave .
☆
So despised without good
cause ,
I determined to sleep on .
The rider on white stallion
showed me poetry and
song .
☆
But when last came time to
leave that place ,
and journey beyond that
vale ,
I prayed for Him to keep me
fast ,
I prayed I would not fail .
☆
Attila said where he had
passed ,
no grass would ever grow .
It grew instead upon his grave
where children seeds
had sown .
☆
Now forging pathways to this
world ,
sacred numbers were my guides .
Moon rise over still water ,
where time holds back the
tide .

Forces they refuse to contemplate ,
gather round them like
wraiths .
The stolen treasure they
conspire to conceal ,
scant hope their souls
debased .
☆
See now the towering
archangel ,
Michael , with his sword .
Intent foul purpose now
costly repaid ,
come the Day of the Lord .
☆
Across an expanse of
night and fog ,
they wander now alone .
And not before
transgression reversed ,
will any be suffered come
home .

Come October they would rise again ,
steal through hidden doorways .
Putrescent then they take their form ,
in liminal space they have their birth .
☆
Every year they come for their meat ,
driven by some unknown clock.
In twenty-eight days they become manifest ,
their grey bony fingers unlock .
☆
A gallery of faded portraits ,
mark Octobers that have gone before ,
gaze longingly out of picture frames ,
behold the living on which they feed .
☆
It gets darker now once more I tell you ,
it shan't be very long ,
till October casts it's deadened pall ,
and then their sickly will be done .

What if something is speaking to me ?
Something that cannot die ,
and all I have to do is listen ,
then function as a scribe .
☆
In spaces between my thoughts
or in corners of my mind ,
or memories of dimlit past ,
now lately redefined  .
☆
What is it then she force
convey ,
while pushing me aside ,
bending my will to her own design ,
my starry moonlit bride .
☆
What of myself and all these dreams ,
Now frozen out of time ?
A traveller from the depths of space ,
with nothing that is mine .

When all around became desolation
and one thing fed into
another ,
the transformation of the soul ,
and revelation of the Pneuma .
☆
I witnessed three unholy princes ,
at once they devoured each other .
Then in flaming cauldron of light ,
were consumed by flaming
fire .
☆
Saved thrice by a ghostly goddess ,
the Moon beneath her feet ,
I was delivered by codes and numbers ,
then reunited by her seat .
☆
The distorted dragon who murders ,
makes charge innocence with crime .
Condemned itself to an endless night ,
this where it would endless lie  .
☆
Then I saw The Hall of Vibration ,
a most melodious singing
choir .
Touched the hem of His sweet garment ,
the glory of Jehovah .

Fast headlong I now fell ,
a hole in dark night sky ,
through diverse strange emotion ,
left alone , outside of Time .
☆
Stranded , unveiled and motionless ,
a searing red blinding light ,
rendered my chest torn apart ,
by a figure in black , out of
sight .
☆
Though feeling no base
emotion ,
there was a demon of fear ,
so prayed I sought my deliverance ,
from this being of anguish and tears .
☆
Was I summoned to awaken ?
have access to these works ,
by one lone hidden blind eye
and a chariot of thunder and verse .
☆
But something stood behind this
temple of judgement and pain .
The Sun , the Moon and a field of wheat ,
marked where that hidden door lay .
☆
Symbols rose up from the sea ,
a vision of numbers and sound .
World shifted from black , red to white ,
overwhelmed as the first scroll unbound .

She is heralded by
the barking of dogs ,
the triple moon goddess
Hecate , Diana or Lucina .
☆
She wanders the Night ,
the crossroads
three ,
resplendent in moonlight ,
she is keeper of the keys .
☆
In time of Dark Moon ,
through secret doorway ,
protected by
wolves ,
she walks with the dead ,
☆
She wanders the Night .

Season of the Snake
on the mountains of the Moon .
We ride on the wind
like vagabond drifters and are
lovers of inter-dimensional time
☆
Across three civilisations
and tortured dark centuries in
between ,
from the reign of Queen
Hatshepsut
and in the time of Tiberius
Caesar
when Satan himself was
     delighted and then deceived .
☆
We saw the Great Plague of  Vienna
in the year of our lord 1679 .
Then , slowly moving west
toward Paris and the eighteenth  century ,
we would lay dreaming
of hermetic clockwork and love.
☆
But it was back in Old Vienna ,
surrounded by pestilence and
death ,
you became a being of light ,
in the Hospice of the Brothers
of the Holy Trinity ,
A pulsating emerald aurora ,
and I remembered how much  I loved you .