Vast ridges of fire tear off from Plumes combed by the hand of devil Floating they look for the lascivious womb Where his archegonium spreads its scent
It is I – the liberated thought of the nations I am the Alexandrian library He who resorts to me time after time Is intoxicated with the mysticality of the red dragon My hieroglyph – a letter written in blood Raised the black host, above the herd And dropped it into the crowd making them covetous! It spilt pyramids of beauty into a triangle!
Only I am the veracious one I come to refine your religion As if a breast of milk feeding a bastard Was not bitten off, but drunk upTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
