Katarche
Rise, Chrysalis – Awaken in kháos
The paradox of irregular regularity
Disorder, the cradle of the universe
Skull masquerading the face of the bee, staring into the heat death
Raze to build
In the golden ring that is your cocoon
The cunning tongue penetrates the honeycomb
On a thorny branch, six eggs of the psyche, surrounded by five white petals of the elements
The death’s head bleeds honey from its veins
A recipe of immortality
Twelve drops into six vases
Katarche
Structures be born, cosmic time on the brink of the cycle of infinity
The first one hatches
Defining unsullied constructing
13,82 gigayears
Amaranthine frame in eternity
Gives the ingredients
In the searing flame, the architect’s vision incubates the cell
The second one hatches
The balance of the atom discharged
Shiny-wing kisses the firmament
Esurient child, artist of the universe
Addicted to survival
Feasts upon stardust and collects matter
Needs unsatisfied, fire evergrowing
Approaching the ouroboros to taste its tail
The bare-headed wyrm
Blue stains, stricken by perversion
When the structures merge into the blaze
Unseen becomes visible, the rainbow of synesthesia beyond time
and the fungal climax gifts a cell division
The third one hatches
Spawn of Theia
The third eye reflects the outer space of alternatives
Wild night makes the unnatural become natural
Not satisfied with a single turn
The kaleidoscope winds to gaze into the falsely forbidden regions
The geometry of the drum membrane in the third dimension
Realities fractured into rooms, walls painted with stardust
Nothing is real
Everything is real
Broken laws
Penumbras fusing beneath the glare of the thirteenth room
The struggle of cosmos and chaos
Time of reckoning
Jet black ambrosia bastes the fourth egg and the frustrated unsullied awakens its kin to share the judgment
The fourth one hatches
The fowl-winged, pluviophile, sews the tempest of existence
Obsidian melds with the blue and green of the sea of sadness
The event horizon of the soul
The loneliness of the devourer and ego crumbling emptiness
Light captured between billions of nanotubes
The song of caustic tears of the poisonous serpent
calling for someone to please
Someone to sing his song, a wailer
The fifth one hatches
Oak crawler, underneath the maple
Ennobled feeling: euphoria and pain entwined
The shadow of another as its reflection
Intergalactic empathy yearns for its place among the stars
Unknowing in its self-effacement
to its own importance
Heavy is the burden on the one who carries the galaxies
Gravity attracting moon eaters, the ones sourness can turn us all
Who is the true pre-shiner?
When everyone crumbles in their turn
Collapsing due to what is ascending them
The sixth egg hears the cries, hatches
With a will of its own, like a limb, following the mind
Embrace of solidarity
Divine power of Apollo
Of what we refuse to see, as without problems we think we are empty
Key to everything? Yes. And no.
Clichés shouting of love, without knowing what Love is
As if a torso can walk
That is not the message of the sixth
The sixth is the gate into the seventh
And only the seventh, which is null
Can perform integration
The master of ceremony of everything that is
leading the orchestra of entropy in search of its last point
Can bleed the seven drops
And the chrysopoeia will be fulfilled
But why should you receive the gift?
In all your solipsism you only see bounds
What makes you imagine, that universe has limits?
I would elevate you, but you don’t believe in the undead
I would show you what the nymphs see
But you think you’ll require cone cells
I tell you about moon fae, on the thorny branch where the eggs hatched
Only fairy tales?
You wither, not because you are wrong
But because you refuse to see
Planet devouring the moonlight
The timber of your mind as the bars on your prison
There is no door
But there is a key.
The shackled limbs won’t bother to reach it
Therefore break the chains!
Push your seal against the bedrock
Do not acquiesce to be a planet
Be a star
Let your mark erode away the bars. Be the key.
You cannot leave through a door when a door does not exist
Thus, you must follow the river on Epirus
Do it, and I shall whisper you the secrets of the dead
Drink the 79 drops
Reveal the iris, of which colors have no name
Your seal on petra, inside you ichor
See more than you see, dance the cyclic death
Then rise with wisdom
After the rainfall, your scent laughs out loud the freedom of madness.