[One thousand years may seem like an eternity to some, but it is a mere whisper in the gist of chaos. Blind is what they are, trapped in the bottomless pit that is their own narcissistic quintessence. Scattered to the wind like sand they wandered the desert before constructing the ultimate shrine for the Demiurge; Yerušalaym, The Holy Sanctuary. When all is done; scattered to the wind they will be once more, bereft of their imperfect narcissistic manifestation.]
Dust is what he gathered Here at Har haBayith To create the first man In his flawed image The first in a long lineage Of slaves and serfs All knowledge denied Bred to crawl and serve Crafted out of matter A despicable, futile shell Binding them to the earth Unable to attain the divine To worship Elohim, in vain Never to look further To the universe beyond Where true wisdom lies The only sacrifices made Are those of the body The binding of Yishaq Hypocrisy exemplified Two temples were erected Here on this bleak mount Remember Vespasian Before the third constructed Pěrûšîm, hearing the divine In the chinking of coins Seeing the smile of God In the shimmer of gold No Messianic Age No World to Come Despair will be plentiful All delicacies will be dust All oaths will be broken As truth turns into lie No kings will be crowned The sixth aeon is the last There is no domination Nor arrogant world rule Only total liquidation As material creation Will fall Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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