Charnel Winds - The Heralding

What cruel hand! What unkind claws
Dragged and pulled me here from there
Then poured liquid lethe down my throat
And wrenched away my lawful lot

...from where? ....from what foreign land?

Memories scurry off like startled vermin
Mere spectral nostalgies remain
The image long gone, an imprint of ineffable voidness
Lingers on, burning my eyes

...what glory? ...what nightmare vistas?

What strange force, what nocturnal witchery
Made me dream this way and then forget
What somnivorous ghoul possessed me to sleepwalk
Out of life in search for some starry god-flesh

...what taste on my tongue?
The violator never was but a phantasm of hidden fears and desires
Yet the victim's psyche lies in ruins and flooded with catatonic shame
The beloved object of devotion never was but a crude man-made scarecrow
Yet the sadhu's all-consuming bhakti does not waver
The blade that cut the wound never was forged
Yet the arms still aches and throbs

O man! Do not speak to me of ghosts and devils!
Was it not agreed that the host of angels
Dancing of a pin's head would be banished
Deep into the jungles of Mei Nong
The thousand and one venerable teachings denounced
As so many old wive's tales and cowardice
The myriad mock heavens and cardboard hells
Bombed and burned to the ground
And every self-proclaimed guru shot on sight

Truly, I am one of the living devils
Ravenous, thirsty, loins bursting with old virtue
We dress as men and step forth into the world