The Forest Whispers My Name

Black candles dance to an overture,
but I am drawn past their flickering lure.
To the breathing forest that surrounds the room.
Where the vigilant trees push out of the womb.

I sip the blood red wine!
My thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of time.
From knowledge drunk, from the fountain of life.
From chaos born, out of love and the scythe.

The forest beckons with her nocturnal call,
to pull me close amid the baying of wolves.
Where the bindings of Christ are down-trodden with scorn.
In the dark, odiferous earth.

We embrace like two lovers at death.
A monument to the trapping of breath.
As restriction is bled from the veins of my neck,
to drop roses on my marbled breast.

I lust for the wind and the flurry of leaves,
and the perfume of flesh on the murderous breeze,
to learn from the dark and the voices between.

This is my will!

The forest whispers my name again and again.
The forest whispers my name!

When the moon is full, we shall assemble to adore,
the potent spirit of your Queen, my mother great Diana.
She who fain would learn all sorcery.

Yet has not won its deepest secrets,
Them my mother will, teach her in truth
All things as yet unknown.

I walk the path to the land of the dark immortals.
Where the hungry ones will carry my soul,
as the wild hunt careers through the boughs.

Come to me, my pale enchantress.
In the moon of the woods we kiss.

Artemis be near me, in the arms of the ancient oak.
Where daylight hangs by a lunar noose,
and the horned, hidden one is re-invoked.

Dark faerytales in Phallustein,
symbols and signs to know us by.

The principle of evil!
Evolution has been recalled.
Beneath the spread of a magickal aeon,
I stand enthralled in the whispering forest.