|
The Black Messiah
20 November 1940
Within the Colosseum roars the restless Roman mob Howling for the blood of Christians driven forth with jeer and probe. Shift the scene a dozen centuries to northern Europe land; See the Christians prick the pagans as they search for Nimir’s brand; Hear the righteous, feel the struggle, know the horror of the thought Of the swelling horde of innocent that are for slaughter caught. Caught to satisfy the thirst of those who ride the church as wain, Though the Christians died as martyrs yet the witches burned in vain.
Be ye not deceived, Still those sobs within your throat, Let not your hearts be grieved, Soldiers of the Mighty Goat!
This ritual that mocks the church with incantations of the Mass But opens pathways to the search for knowledge old, and not of crass. For we who are to Lilith born remain in homage to our Queen; The Old Religion reared again will batter down all walls between, To conquer all that men can know and raise again our rule supreme; O’er all the nations of the world the Witchcult will regain its dream! And those who died upon the pyre will take their honors from the fire.
|