Face the Conjurer of Veils · as Dark Mist Shrouds the Sky
⁘ “In the mists of Babalon we wander. The veil of the night is thick. Is there a path? Is there a map? Who be this whore of the ages, shrouding the world of men? Who the conjurer of veils, the beast of many heads? You alone, the lifter of your veils, the sinker of your boats, the hero and villain of your tales. ”
In the mists of Babalon we wander.
The veil of the night is thick.
Darkness consumes the sky.
We wonder, is there a path?
Is there a map?
Who be this whore of the ages,
spreading her veil, shrouding the world of men?
None but you, my friend, selling your soul short, in the world of trivial pursuits.
You alone, the mistmaker, conjurer of veils,
the beast of many heads,
and the dragon at the trail's end.
Yours alone, internal, are the battles at the end.
You battle yourself in the clearance of yourself.
Your harvests,
the pool of aggregated substance in your well.
It boils, and it must be distilled.
You alone, the lifter of your veils,
the sinker of your boats,
the hero and villain of your tales.
With a spell, we conclude our tell.
SammallammaS.