The Ordeals and the Adorant

To suffer in and of itself is a blessing. You make it through to the other side stronger. More you than you were before.

Hail Nuit in her secret place and Nanna watching over our sleep,

Shamash, Ra-Hoor-Kuit in his bright throne burning the hearts of man

Bukowski was a fraud and Chaucer a heartless romantic, Nietzsche- the fool of the tarot

Walking gleefully off the cliff as we all should, though in himself he forgot to worship the sacred heart of Nuit

Thus he never grew his wings, fell, and now lies in the depths of the abyss he longed for