Sermons of the Psyche

Harsh and terrible is thy path amongst these ruins
Eyes set to your ascension and eyes to your fall
A majestic enantiodriomia, a clash of destinies untold
Twenty-two arrows shall pierce thy heart
As your bow shall become thine shadow
Your face shall turn to the sanctioned grounds
As your gaze shall be set towards godhood
A crescendo of illusion and delusion has sprung
Since the third creation of these mundane soils
Coiling this world to glory and decadence
Yet thou shall yield your ever-polished sickle
And you shall reap, you shall shatter, you shall tear
A blaze ever elusive as thine fermented shadow
A victory buried under a mountain of gold
A golden arrow for the lord of the eternal hunt
A silver arrow for the mistress of gnosis
A brazen arrow for the brazen child
An arrow of ether for the hunter