The Whore of Babylon

So, when She came like benighted night, to topple the Crown of God, I asked, "Why?"

Because I rose a shining and rotten Star, the Great Whore of the World
From gutter and pit, to a kingdom of glass and the marbled faceless
Child of nothing, begotten from nothing, and now Aught and All
Venus-anointed and Gaia-born—a helm of razor-locks, weaponed with a spear—
A spear, a phalanx, a staff, a rod: an Arm erect and unsheathed
Because I tore off my shackles, flaying my dimmed flesh
Which now glimmers in the face of the downing Sun
Shimmering in blood and dripping with the sweat of my sex
What was my course if not this? A Helen who prized herself
Who chose to stand at the precipice, at the Gate of Damnation
Who now refuses to further regurgitate the vomit of Dogma
Heathen, defiler, wretchedness embodied; once a body, now a Will
She who tore out the Pages, who broke the Tablet
Born in Sin and borne by Sin—
A wayward Star that knew no other course
Than that which was forbidden, hidden and barred
Because I shall place atop my crown the Crown of All-Light
And so be destroyed, destroying with me the whole of the World
I: Whore, Warrior, Woman
Who stands before the Infinite and the Eternal
With but Rage and her everlasting Will
Risen from the desert sands, made of earth and ash
Who now stands at the highest peak
Destroyer of Light, the Bringer of Life
My womb will be the grave of the Word
My victory gestating from the afterbirth
Because I stand, with God, above God, beyond the Universe itself
A being of nothing, that will give birth to the End
All this because I have etched my Fate in the sky-vault above
An Act, by my hand, because I so willed
So it was to be and and so it now is
From a lifeless Death to deathless Life

M. M. — 04-Jan-16