Whirlwind.

The self as the vessel of all chaos. The gods as tribal and mystic dancers. Ecstatic and mad. Spiraling in a dervish frenzy upon the soil of man. Dashing their dust in the fires of our hearts. Voices raised in chaotic crescendo.

I am the dust beneath your feet.

I am ash of your burning offerings.

Do not go easy on me.

Burn me with no abandon.

Trample me without regard.

I have not come to the world of being and non-being to simply be a spectator. If this world is a great rain then I have come for the flood. If this hour of man is doomed to darkness than I have come for the fullness of armageddon.

Soldiers, ready your bayonets. I have come for the salt of your gun powder. I have come for the piercing and un-letting throes of your countless wars. I have come to die your countless deaths. I have come to be the un-sacrificial wolf of your bloody campaigns of peace.

Tax collectors. Hide not behind your heavy armed thugs. Abandon now the profane sanctuary of your well paid brutes. Come to me with your gnashing of teeth and your greed like knives. Come scratch the surface of my flesh. Come with your scales and computations. Come open eyed and burning.

You will see the power of poverty is endless. You will see the power of pain is greater than the comfort of your cushioned and stolen houses.

I ask you. You who are pale and thin of flesh. You who boast for the high prices of your high society, yet know nothing of its true cost. You who decree the burning of forests, turning pure hearts orcish to your nickles and dimes. You who sow nothing that you reap, yet shy from the faces of the poor by whom you are served. Come.

Cast your pennies to our gutters. Come drink the wine of your tortured millions. Come taste the cost of the worlds that your comfort has assailed. Come sleep in the weeping forests who cry blood for your expansive holocausts.

For decades you have traded your stocks and your diamonds and your false smiles and hollow laughs in the confines of your secret sepulchers, away from the true heart of modern man. I invite you now, do not be so exclusive. Come trade with us, come pound for pound, come to the true harvest of your cruel empire. Come lose yourself in the fear of the battle ground you have created. You who have made the poor man a criminal. You who have turned the middle class in on itself. You who hire slaves to build houses upon the sand with one knife to our throats and one to our backs, you who pull the floor out and then demand your unjust penance.

Playtime is over, gentleman.

Make certain your suits are fitted. Be sure your ties are tied tight. There is a great reckoning whose sleeping wrath knows no rich and poor, this is a reckoning that has come for all.

Did you truly expect to hide forever?

Did you think the mysteries of gaul, thebes, and alexandria would sleep forever dormant in your vatican vaults?

Did you expect the handicap of your hidden schools to be hidden forever?

There are those who know the secrets that lie in your false cathedrals.

There are those who have more than tasted the price of the blood upon which you have built your castles.

You have cowered for too long in your shadows. You have done every thing in your power to tip the scales, but now the scale is broken.

Come.

Break with us.

Suffer yourselves not to take refuge from the great judgement.

Death is not the only horsemen who knocks on your door.

You have payed your unearned portions to these reapers of essence since before the dawn of Ashtaroth and Moloch. You have made your unholy treaties with those outer-worldly scavengers, gray and scaled ,and traded gifts of this earth that do not belong to you, in exchange for malevolent mechanics not meant for this sacred planet.

Drink now.

The dark alms of your bargaining are no longer valid in this court.

There is no satiation for the black hunger of this womb.

When these demons come they will be blind. They will not see your status. They will not see your contracts and your bank statements. They will not remember Baal and Cabal. They will not remember Thule or Arya. They will know the only thing a starved and tricked beast can ever know.

Hunger.

Oathbreakers, I ask you to come. We have prepared a place at the table. This wine is bitter and the bread is stale, but in these final hours,  let us know each other once more in the depth of communion before mankind is eclipsed in 3 days of darkness.

DRINK UP

Then, let those who survive on the other side determine the way humankind will survive.

Chin, Chin

The awakening is now.