Absu Fantasizing To The Third Of The Pagan Vision
(Quoth the Sky, Nevermore Act II) 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 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