Tranquil Matters

de Meditation Zen

Two black candles illuminate
A windowless concrete room
On four walls are painted
Sigils of the infernal princes
I stand before an altar draped in red
My blade is stained with blood
That my chalice runneth over

I close my eyes and visualize
Sinking into an ocean of shadow
To sink lower one must vibrate slower
This is the only way
For the soul to separate
To rise to their plane
Where the infernal princes
Make their presence manifest

I dare to walk in places
Mortal men fear to tread
When we rise above ourselves in darkness
It is our mortality we shed

A doorway has been opened
Out the corner of my eye
I detect a shadowy movement
On the west wall

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