Hear This

By Frater Mastema

From one came many,
Without pain,
Ye, without glory.

By resurrection of father and mother,
By purity crisp in fire,
By the virtue of consuming water,
Ye, come forth.

Arisen without light,
Cast thy fellows in night,
The agony of seeing a torment,
Unto eyes that can not cry.

Listen, is not the drum,
Summoning,
Is not life formed of hell,
No pleasure,
All becomes pain.

Yet in the abode are angels,
With swords they slay,
With skewers to become,
As it were,
A feast unto the night of angels.

Feast on thy brother,
Feast on thy sister,
Aye, the infants of earth,
Tender stew.

Hate without pleasure,
No honor in living,
Less in death.

Glory to the DIVINE,
With infinite wisdom,
No mercy,
No remorse,
Vile beast for angels,
And a plague called man.