Fantasizing To The Third Of The Pagan Vision


I stood before my reflection

With a beloved adherent

Waiting beneath the cross for a purpose

To drink my tepid blood from the chalice

Impart thou in the text of Scourge

And cleft through the veil of the virgin

Purity is to live

To the highest; and the highest is unjust


Fantasizing to the third of my gentile sight

In the gate of the mind appears

And arise with turbulence called I

[repeat chorus:]

The artfullness of the blind Shabbathai

For thee have I worshipped the Stars

I cried, while you perpetually died

...On top of Black Montanus of thy Septentrio

Animus of an aged Tetragrammaton

With stains, a lucid cicatrix of disgrace

With joyful, elated Endeavour

O lilywhite goat

Frail as a thicket of thorns

With a collar of gold for thy throat

A crimson bow for thy horns

O lilywhite goat

You made ma Paganal dreams erroneous