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Plane The Third

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A nude virgin is dancing about me.
In her hands there is the corpse, death-cold corpse of my ego.
Laws of cool blood are entering the other side of the body.
Around it there is a nimbus from the extinct consciousness
Like an anadem of toneless grasses.

The mortal flesh is gleaming. I am alchemizing into furious dust devil.
Penetrating into the bottommost universe deeps of dissipation,
I sweep away the decaying slavish fetters of reiterated dogmata.
I am self-initiating into the esotery of vacuum.

Black sun will enfold ossuaries of the past
And draw down the curtain fore ever

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