Slaves of Desire (04)

The din of an apocalyptic choir overshadows and fuels a dark desire, harbored in the wills of the Deep Ones, the Slave Kings who would wish to turn Eden’s Gardens of Peace into a war’s mire. If only my desire could not betray me. If only my intent were blinded from even I to see. Perhaps it is my poison, that anti-vitriol that binds the chains again. I am bound… I am bound… Could I have found the sorrow of desire? If so, I’d set all of manifestation on fire. If so, I’d hang all that is hidden, dark or mysterious. The hanged occult eye. Does it weep?