I, the high Prince of the Ritual
Shall share thy tale of the man of greed
Who was believed, to the ancient ones,
To be the despicable deity that ruled over each
Before the dawn of time.
Further have they believed that such worship
Was of such of a foul assembly,
Immersing the world into war after war,
Where, alas, the perverted man’s mind lead
To the very verge of extinction.
See here, that we are the magicians of nature
In the sense that we have as the symbol of peace,
Lucifer, he who was cast out
By the bloodthirsty, personified being.
What you see is the intelligent people
Fairly comfortable with the concept of Christianity,
Though unfortunately for each,
They suspected something wasn’t quite right.
They believed they didn’t give the whole answer,
Let alone the entire truth.
The man of mixed morals
Insisted he came to save one part of a group
But no one else.
He, who brought not peace but a sword
Thought he would turn members against each other,
But we are reserved to love thine enemies,
The saying he made such thy mockery of.
Thus thy ancients had cast the book to flames
For their chance to be in the peace
To admire the plants made by the finest magick
That surrounds thee
Without ever having to be held back
By the man of greed who threatened
To close us down to eternity in flames
If we dare disagreed with his point of view.
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