Æon

[Sepia]

The 23rd path

"There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying the stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying the stairway to heaven."

- LED ZEPPELIN


""Light down, light down, now, True Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide and rest a little space,
And I will shew you ferlies three."

"O see ye not that narrow road,
So thick beset with thorns and briers?
That is the path of righteousness,
Tho after it but few enquires.

"And see not ye that braid braid road,
That lies across that lily leven?
That is the path to wickedness,
Tho some call it the road to heaven.

"And see not ye that bonny road,
That winds about the fernie brae?
That is the road to fair Elfland,
Where thou and I this night maun gae."

- The ballad of Thomas the Rhymer


"hell above and heaven below
all the trees are gone
the rain makes such a lovely sound
to those who're six feet underground
the leaves will bury every year
and no one knows I'm gone
leave me golden tell me dark
hide from Graveyard John
the moon is full here every night
and I can bathe here in his light
the leaves will bury every year
and no one knows I'm gone"

- And no one knows I'm gone, T. Waits



The 32nd path

Heavy words descend upon our adams apples and knots tie in bellies and a man is said to be left standing after the invasion, he is questioned but released, never picked up by any of the locals and when the revolution comes he is the first against the wall but again he is released and is tolerated for his lack of actions. When the revolution has feasted upon its fathers and mothers and children, the revolution, now lacking what fueled the hatred turns into what it once was but more brutal, more sincere. The revolution learned alot about others pain and we are protected now, by the same gods, the same vaults and the same moat

Mother Guillotine, have you come to see me off as I escape your city and your enthralled henchmen? The skies are bloodred as is fitting with a passing like this for I shall see you never again and even though you were newly built and only recently used, you are an old monster and rarely do you stand in the sun, aye, but when you do you are horrible to look at, you are retarded compassion built for efficiency, you are the monster in the abyss but you are more importantly purpose given form, you are destiny manifested and in a world where they tell us god creates destiny, not man

You learned me alot, this is the city that never sleeps, this is the city of the morning, this is the city of the harvest, the sleight of perpetual motion, the curve as time seems to sag and then speed up and I can feel the interference and it feels like nothing else and the hum and the beat and the snare and the light, like being on e only so much more, so much more detail so much more reality stop ask yourself why and know the answer already, see, magic

Never magick or magique for those are barren words nested in hollow shells of the people that so hardly want to believe when there is not much to believe in and why would you want to believe in something so vague that few people take responsibility for what they've written about it, hiding behind dry pseudonyms, a mish of religion, philosophy and bible trying to become science as they interpret religion with science and science with religion and this is magic, when the penetrator becomes the penetrated when night becomes day and if you really want to read about magic, I'd pick up Promethea seeing it's excellent handiwork

But the city sleeps, the city doesn't yearn for me as the miles become hours and night turns into day and everything shifts and the world is hollow, there are no friendly faces among the fires, there are no warmth in the rain but we press on and after the second night of sleep we hear the sounds of the ocean, we hear the life and hope fills our bellies like the finest of champagnes and we enjoy the last night, having reached the future of what we will become, the something is planted in us, something new that most likely will fade and flicker but it is there NOW

we realize it doesn't really matter what happens now, we've seen it, we did it we lived up to our own standards, we understood the consequences of our actions.

Some men say the world ends whn two watery stones meet on dry land, some say it will be consumed by dragons, others believe a dark lord is rising in the east, some say it will happen this year, some say its already happened

Some say that in his wet tomb of R'lyeh, he weeps for the end of time as his æon begins