To Die Questing…
Dawn arrived and the river was frigid.
I knelt before the Obsidian blade
The Baphomet, the Diabolus.
I traced an inverted pentagram over the knife.
From the Nexion in the sky, a nebulous Chaos
Engulfing the blade and then my soon to be empty vessel
‘Ad Satanas qui luetificat juventulem meam’
My journal of the Dark Immortal with entries of going beyond
The final victim would provide me solace
I am only helping to improve the human stock
I undertake the rite of the final stage;
My journey ends by my own hand.