When We Were Not So Mad

Back when we were young and not so mad, we were the great creators, the givers of life, making our Frankenstein’s come to life. building our monsters of madness with the blueprint of HP Lovecraft and his like. We were so amazing back than, building our dreams, flaming the fires of our youthful madness as the great descent began. Lower and lower we climbed thinking how high are we! Never realising into the deep dark lead the beat of our feet. Devils we were, making our mark in the dark, shadows whispering into twilight. The world was ours we simply held out our hand, but than the true madness came and twisted our words and before we knew it, the sacrifice was so much more than we thought. So it was that the debt collected tied our soul, to the very bottom of the darkness of that great old well. The well we so willingly threw ourselves into, shouting with glee oh look at me, here I am deep in the abyss, I am so great hey watch this! But all that could be seen was our fingertips, loosing our grip as we fell into that great yawning abyss. It wasn’t what we thought it would be, no it was not. It was more than a gaping hole, more than a dreamers bliss. It was the very last thing we expected it to be, it wasn’t some great exotic journey designed to make us stars, rather it was the fire of the Phoenix burning our scars, it was the mirror shards that reflected our tortured soul, it was the ugliness we hid in our heart, it was our fears and secret hate, our faults and our torments and short comings. It was anything but the ride into glory, it was anything but this “Great Work” of robes and wands and cauldrons! We didn’t understand all those years ago, we didn’t know that it is inside ourselves, that the abyss resides. That the great work was not some magical incantation, but rather the unmaking of oneself, the unmasking of the face, the pulling down of that splendid Tower you thought you built, of taking the words that had made up who you are and throwing them away. It is the rebuilding of your shattered self, based upon the learnt – deep in the black abyss –  Knowledge of who you really are. But no one tells you this. No one warns you. It’s oh look something shiny but by the time you find the answer you have forgotten the question you long ago asked. Back when we were not so mad and creators of life, we had this vision of how it would end, of how we would become great magickan’s of the dark light. We would be kings and queens, makers of our own destiny, wielders of fate, creators of demons, all powerful and full of might. But little did we know back in the day, that in the end what we would be, those who could survive, is the Gods and Goddess of our own Creation, full of madness and light and darkness and flight. We would grow to soar above the clouds of doubt, and spread our wings and laugh at our childish delights, from back in the day when we were still young and not quite so mad and full of devilish might.



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