Sariel’s Daughter of Taurus

The black pyramids stretch out for miles

And the angelically crafted music is always abundant attuned to the heavenly dance of Sariel’s daughter of Taurus..

Beyond her door lies a garden of sapphire and pink roses.

As she sits, patiently at her altar or wedding bed waiting for the right individual to peer into her starlit myre.

Black Asana

Love of own

Earth in thee, Tangos

The laws of our unsuffering are ever blinding thee by

the flesh which you only ever never did see in the claret of mirrors

Mine dark enchantress of timber,

Of lithe

Of Untantra and final arted asanas which massage and caress the bitterness

In our surfaces

In the solidity of our sanctuary

Wilt thou this only soil be the root which swoons in thee

If ever never I am nothing

Then may I ever never be again

If all the only worlds were ever never unsaid

to speak our religion

in the black honor of now

wouldst thou maketh the eternal vau to thee?

 What is the word..

In that which you hath unheard?

But hear in the heart full of eyes?

Does it,

Resound in the fates of hearts blinding equilibriums?

Does it,

Shatter all sense with un-measurable lament?

Does it,

Comfort thee?

With the shining lucidness of that which is truest and free?

Does it,

Make you know, that which is honestest, your only place inside where you ever never rest?

Does it,

Take you anywhere?

Does it,

Tremble with truest final arted love?

A collar

What is this black ring...

of ever never, neverending?

The mesmerization of all purest twin soul

Canst thou shake or shiver,

In the quivering ecstasy of what I am?

Beginneth now, This equilibrium..

Which maketh the soul the only kind of proud

The life which moves for another life

And a soul which art thou a mirror

Animated, In blinding final arted lights truest dearest one to be near..

The discipline. of mine body is the sanctuary of my wholeness

The cracked bell of red, which is also blue

With the intention of needing to be ones own truest final arted love at first sense

Which maketh a sound so violent,

Your black mirror might hath swooned

It is the vigil of your first intention...

Without doubt nor unhaste in your stride

You art thou the visage of that seed the soil

Which ever hath been planted and grown unto the fullness

of what is purest and truestly royal

Maketh the only aught be end of their toil

And enrapture me, black ever coil of awful things

The jewel in the bell which maketh such a sound

Attuned to the movement

Of thine mistress

Black enchantress

Of enchantress

Carry thine soul in black agile vigilance

What

Sariel then spoke with her body;

THE EDGES IN THE WALL 

ARE ACRILIC

WITH SLIDES AND BACKFLIPS,

AND HANDSTANDS

ART THOU BLACK LUMINESCENT

AS I DANCE IN THINE EYE

FOR THE FIRST AND FINAL TIME

BLACK SUCHNESS IS THE VIOLENCE OF THIS BLINK

NETHER UNWORLDLY, REMEMBERING

WHICH SHALT THOU EVER BE NEVERENDING...

MUST THOU THINK?

IF THOU SHALT MOVE AT ALL...

IN THE FREEDOM OF ONES OWN JEWELED DARKEST SONG

I SHALT UNWAKE AND WAKE IN THE BLACK MIRROR OF MIRRORS...

YOUR EYES SHALT BE DELIVERED TO THE EARTH FILLED WITH EARTH

WOE,

OH,

BLACK EARTH...

The dark passages of truth

Bind me to nothing but you

I am the wilting wheat flower of flowers

in the somnambulism of it's voice or word

which dervishes the embrace of the all un-liquid body

I shalt perish all thee hath heard, or ever hath tormented in

And the ceremonies shalt sing sweetly to thee, and all the lucid flesh

Shalt be that caress in your finer step

Which relinquished, The only vitality in the bottom of all that we hath met

In the promise of hereafters eternally

I shalt be in the prisms of thee lost

In balances secret, All that she shalt aught

A daughter is black holy blessed

A daughter is black holy confined which art thou free

Where hath that nothing, which shalt maketh thee see?

Can you yearn

Like I dance

In the winters of only you

My destruction shalt bring the end to your suffering

It's speed, It's aim, It's attack

Is there nothing you lack?

I am the only wisdom

I am the aught

Bury me in the flower you always hath saught

I know the affinity, in your dread to thee

But carry on, sweet child of the infinity

I burden your shelters with ashes of youth

And tremble in vigil that entrance to you

Your body

Is like the iris

To me

Can no-one burden thee with simplicity?

Mother Sariel

Carry me

Jewel of fate

I promise the death wilt come ever never late

In the hour of your holy pain

Your nothing, I shalt erase

Mountains, ruptures, earthquakes

The soul of that crystal wildfire which dances in ghostly frozen blue and purple firey apocalypse

Can i be known to your neck and your lips?

And promise you the only word for it,...?

I yearn in winters summer which sang

I enter it

Forests of blue

Forests of new

Can i long in the visage of you

Which shalt promise thee astral druid

The frozen firey death flower anew

I climb the secrets in your cathedrals

Which ends in Elysian haunted heart stones,

jinxed fire,

 and then one very whispered last desire..

Tremble unto thee

Saraqael