Implosion is imminent.
Time is history.
And as we who know that darkness is
when we shine the most remember,
true Genesis is this:
Real stars don't fall.
It just looks that way to comets,
awake and on the move again.
Around the globe they're numbered differently
some to happenpast 13,
some to stay dozenpast-one just a little longer.
No more evening now.
No more snake to bite.
Enough of history.
For it all adds up to Seven.
Dumb circles, said the stars, and sold them Hollywood
whilst they raped their dreams.
Time is up -- the falling of the stars.
Circles, circles everywhere,
Will they knot to see a single square, forevermore?
CHRONOS HEAR OUR PRAYER.
Your plane, we plane-ettes.
There are no planets! Only wandering stars.
No Order in the sky,
yet loftier than horizons our light to darkest, grounded Eye.
Oh magic paper, magic keys, Magick Pen,
grant to me the freedom from the mind at Lodge.