I am unusual, deep, dark, and passionate. I have an artistic view of life that tends toward the spiritual. I like to play, but I am also deeply philosophical. I love knowledge and my life is dedicated to seeking it. ____________________________________________________________
__Yin: I am sacrificed again on the ancient alter of my dreams. Now and forever, the priest holds up my beating heart for all to see. And in this way I am freed, for what was hidden is now revealed. Blood red I cry out, and from the depths of me, the winged beast is released. That griffin of old. That terrible bird. That Grendel. Astaroth. Rising from the east, the place of the sun's fiery birth, he spreads gnarled wings that fan the wicked flames he chokes forth. His eyes pierce Heaven. His mighty roar shakes the very pillars of the earth. He is both Visigoth and Leviathan. His claws scrape the acrid air surrounding, and the mountains tremble in his presence. His stride is of a mile, as his journey he undertakes. Monstrous his temperament, for he means no good to those he would oppose. His dominance in the hoary realm underfoot assured, he takes to air, his environ to survey, his displeasure to assuage. And even the air, that second element, to him is prey as he possesses the sky. He seeks Zion. That first among places. That worthy goal. That dragon hive. In union there with the universal essence, shall he dwell. In fury he makes his way. Forces of nature sing to the negative. The repository vessel occupied unfit. Vengeance resounds as his head he does twirl into the astral. And to Hell’s gate he ventures. There, all manner of beast do him assail. And the cosmic sword he unsheathes. The heads of wretches roll on Hell’s floor, there to rot for an eternity staring into the empty darkness that is Hell’s light. And to flight again he resumes. His course set. As a storm rising, he cuts the willful air. Him, no gravity can avail. With stroke of wing bending the night, he navigates the black sheet, the empty loft. Stars for a guide, his strident move he makes. And in midair his journey delayed. A shadow ascending, spectre from the unknown, revealing woe to those perceiving, does he spy. A shapeless form of endless girth, a devouring maw. That perfect evil. Reaper. The challenge set. The gauntlet thrown. The tangle destined. His move he makes. With Heaven’s fire he does strike the immortal ghost, risen from a thousand graves, meaning ill. His armored tail he swings as Thor his mighty hammer would. Spectre and he, hurling, churning, whirling through time. A cosmic dance performed. Thunder rolling on the plain. Lightning striking to and fro. War waged. As titans do they struggle, one with the other. At length, the stars reveal the lost cause, the crushed, the vanquished spirit. And Astaroth summons forth the astral roar, and shakes the stars, and with utter strength the demon he does kill. Though wounded in the fray, the firebird rises. As the Phoenix is transformed out of the ashen pile, so too the winged warrior. Ascension thus granted, his path is clear and on it he goes. Seeking skyward, the tops of mountains are but a resting point. A respite on the eternal path. And on the highest peak, his path he plots with accurate decision. The making of stars his goal. He who would sac Heaven and swallow its yoke. The journey interrupted, resumed. And Heaven did cry out, for its fate was sealed. The starmaker on the horizon. Yet, delayed again. His ilk, in midair perceiving, his attention draws. Bright as the sun, the she bird. To her side he wings. And breathes the fire of her perfumed essence displayed. The bounty of life therein stored. The milk and honey. The hypnotic. And he dwells momentarily in that grace. With slanted eyes drinks in the pool that is she. The oasis. Adelinde. His black heart swells in the onslaught of all that she is. In her thrall he is captured. Her spell is cast. She, also not withstanding the beast of old, is likewise drawn. And gainst the starry night framed, in that instant, they are one. Priest and priestess entangled in the night sky. In the eternal now are they consecrated and with venomous injection the bond is set. The shared poison ingested. And eye within eye they roil through the nocturnal. Set against a pane of the everlasting universal lights that do them illuminate. And their throaty dragonsong, like the blowing of Joshua’s horn, that wall crumbling device, is heard. Their quest into the ether now twofold. For each seeks the universal essence divine and the divination of the triune with their mate. Together they will rip the seal on fate’s book and scratch as new the fiery symbols of their destined births. As stars and even galaxies do collide, so too their wills with the evanescence of life. Transformation complete, they glide onward. To Heaven’s porch they steer and there do perch. For all is theirs. The gates there emblazoned with the eye of God to them swing wide and into the sublime they tread. Discovery resounds of the light and source. Into the heart of Heaven’s bower do they spring. The hosts rejoicing, they hear in refrain. In disassemblege of all, they are caught up. Their migration into essence assured, toward the center of the light they move. In transubstantiation with the divine. Transmutation into light. Essence Illuminati.
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