AT HOME...(Spiritual urban poem)

Swimming in a sea of books of shadows, magical verses, quatrains and tomes. Bloody telepathic and psychic battles, even the most devout monks and holy men would get shitless and rattled. Could never follow the orthodox religions built on the cornerstones of innocent blood, corralling the spiritually seeking, like livestock or cattle. Some spiritual wars, one is forced to fight alone. 

Exorcisms in Latin, Ancient Egyptian and Sumerian. Taming both my lineages of Nephilim and Barbarian while I struggle to be the best Humanitarian I can be. My soul, my life has always been to walk the path of honor and to be unlike the aristocratic or elite but more like an incorruptible proletarian. If some could know the secret corners of my mind? They’d lock me up in a remote, high security sanitarium.

I hear voices that whispered secrets, thousands of years ago. Yesterday’s truths are tomorrow’s miracles. It has always been the arcane and occult that has protected the mundane and empirical. The nether realms of Gods, Angels, Demons, shadows and beings light, have existed since before creation but have been consigned to fairy tales, a fact that I find both disrespectful and satirical. 

It is the threshold of night people walk to when they are plagued by the unknown. Living a life mocking the supernatural, barely accepting the natural, ignoring the GOD within you preferring the animal yet still daring to wonder “What if I’m not alone.”  

At home.

Warding off demonic attacks by will alone. Ancient words spoken to weave magical tapestries, leaving the resolve of all inhuman enemies broken and summoning ethereal sigils in the air, that no one but you can see, making them all the more potent. An unseen masterpiece of spiritual light to be continuously released. 

Reading books that have yet to be written. Periodic visits to the Akashic records. Astral travel and remote viewing of the past, present and future and all parallels and multi-universal dimensions while possessing a physical vessel, makes it hard to stay centered. 

But it is my chief duty to try. Not everybody lives but it has become vastly easy to die. While we are encouraged as a society to kill ourselves softly, by the drink, drugs, over medication and over simplification of our complexities, I chose to become and stay spiritually alive. 

My demons I recognize and have named, so now they bow to me. The demons of the evil I have done in the past no longer torture me with guilt but rather prostrate themselves and loyalty is what they vow to me. I am the light in the tunnel that is my life. I am the darkness that I banish. I am the hands and word that brings love and miracles in to my life and heals all my damage. 

If there is a creator? It created me. It created me and so it is a part of me. So many fear the ending but it is the beginning that I chose to give all of me. I recreate myself the way I want to be and leave in the past, what I thought I was and what others thought of me. 

I am one with the zenith. I am the soul of Ra, the phoenix. I tame the animal I have within and wish to taste the light rather than blood. This time my 7 souls mean it. 

I let go of the past, I let go of the trash. The trash I thought I was and the body bags of all the negative beings I gave birth too because of my ego and all of my many masks. I let go of trash.

I am finally home…within my true self. 

At home. 

Swimming in a sea of books of shadows, magical verses, quatrains and tomes. Bloody telepathic and psychic battles, even the most devout monks and holy men would get shitless and rattled. Could never follow the orthodox religions built on the cornerstones of innocent blood, corralling the spiritually seeking, like livestock or cattle. Some spiritual wars, one is forced to fight alone.