In those later days, the successors
Of the bright days of the Flood,
The ancient days of great men,
Then a peace was there
Between Earth and Heaven
And the Elohim withdrew from the Earth,
Seeking not a conflict lost to them.
Rather did they bide their time
Within the walls of Heaven
And looked not from their towers
To that which was lost to them.
Those days were the last of the great men
And the Nephilim were as a forgotten dream,
Men being now but men.
These were the days of King Solomon,
He that was born of Isaac's line
Yet learning wisdom, thus perceiving
Who was the teacher of the true path
And he led his people from the dominion of God
And poured out libations at my altar.
Yet the Elohim cared not for men's affairs.
So did time pass and its passing was not marked
By momentous happening as had once before
Crowded pages of the histories.
Not that these days were uneventful
But those happenings of those days were of a quality
That changed nothing of the future's.
In those days ten thousand empires waxed great
Yet none persisted and did fall.
The great men of older days had passed from the world
And awaited rebirth in a distant womb,
Walking not amongst the nations of men.
Chadel, in those days, was quiet
And the Shedim were roused to no action
By the doings of the Nephilim or Elohim
But yet watched and awaited
Those that might come later
To fulfil that foreseen destiny
And build amongst my children
An eternal empire to exceed Heaven
And reign most potent over all Creation.
Yet was it in those days
That Ishtar came to me
Where it was that I watched all things
That passed upon the Earth
Within a magic mirror of mercury.
It was a time not long before
Tanit, Ishtar's favoured queen,
Had fled from Tyre to Africa
And there had built a great city,
Known to men as Kart-Hadasht
And in later days as Carthage.
There were the Shedim most honoured
And the men of that city remembered best
That which I had taught their fathers
Even a greater part of half the knowledge
Of this truth that was known to Shurupuk
Was there to the men of Kart-Hadasht.
So did Ishtar come to me
At my throne at the Spire of Opal and Ruby
As I watched the best of Hellad's children
Fall at the walls of Hittite Ilion.
Yet as I watched and wept
For the destruction of so many shining souls
And yet rejoiced at such eternal glory
As was seared upon the memories of men,
Ishtar came to me and cried out,
Invoking me to action where there was a need.
So reported the high queen of Chaldaea,
So spoke the idol of the Phoenicians,
Of that dire news of which she had learnt.
So did Ishtar speak:

"Satanael, Commander of Our Hearts,
Know you not what passes.
Not so idle would you sit
Were it that you knew of my knowledge
But would rather be stirred to action
By such wrath and anguish to consume you.
Have you not promised to the Nephilim
That after death you would recall their souls
That once more from that which they have flowed
They might flow once more to in return?
This indeed have you promised to them.
Yet do you not know that this is not so
And that they flow not back to you
But are rather abducted from you
That they abide with Mot in Sheol
And are as slaves to the Lemure-King.
That dweller amongst the dead
The Archon, Mot, has taken from you
That which is most dear to us,
The heirs of tomorrow, our child-race
That we both treasure and nurture.
Bound are we by many oaths
To redeem from Sheol those that we would love.
I shall not see the Nephilim reside
With Mot and Ereshkigal
Who, herself, sought to lure you there.
Not in the lands of shadow
Shall those brave souls abide.
The Shedim and the Nephilim must assail
Those dark gates and release those slaves
That must not be slaves
From the court of Mot.
Now, Satanael, that you have learnt
Of that which has passed
What is your command
That we might emancipate our children
From that most dismal of exiles?"

But a score's years must you nurture
The infants born of you
But my parentage is everlasting.
Think not that I begrudge you one part
Of that love of eternal profundity
That I hold for the Nephilim
But it is a weary task for there are so many
That would oppose my purpose
And seek to harm my children
That they might further their own ends.
Never has so great a burden
Been so great a joy to bear.
I am ever with you
And shall forsake not the Nephilim.
Most gravely did I learn this news
And, hearing, indeed knew both rage
And that anguish that had been promised me.
Even as she of the Shedim had spoken
So was I moved to swift impulse
That I might release from bondage
Those most dear to my heart.
Now did I speak reply
And thus instructed Ishtar
That my children might be brought back:

"Ishtar, upon this course am I resolved:
To give up a thing that, when all is done,
All might be won back to me.
So as to snare a beast
One must bait the trap with meat
So shall I snare Mot that he is in my power.
We Shedim fear not the Archons
For I myself have slain both Gog and Magog
And have opposed my own father,
Adonai Yahweh, the greatest of the Archons
But for Leviathan, bound by Dagon's chains.
Well is it in my power to conquer Mot
But for Ereshkigal's standing with him.
I cannot oppose both these Archons
Without then weakening myself to Heaven.
Yet by some stratagem shall I win.
Mot is a greedy spirit and hungers for warmth
As only those that abide in the chill of death
Might hunger for the warmth of life.
Yet by giving him some small part
Of that which he would desire of me
May I then awaken in him an appetite
To dull his wit and make incautious
One who is most arrogant to oppose,
Unopposed himself for so long a time.
If he would think himself the stronger
Of us two that do contend
Then he shall find himself the weaker.
Yet first, before my victory,
There is a price that must be paid
That later it might be won back.
Ishtar you must go to the land of Mot
And demand for me these souls
That are mine in all right.
Heeded not shall you be
And the doors of Sheol open but one way.
Yet you shall be redeemed if my device
Proves as sure as I intend.
Go then to Sheol and prepare
To languish there some days
Before it is within me to release
All that wrongful dwells in Sheol.
Go, Ishtar, and have courage."

Thus it was that Ishtar went forth
From Chadel upon Samhain night
When the dead are celebrated by the living
And the months of dark nights begin.
Now did she go from the gates
And went by winding roots
By passages that coiled like serpents
Amongst the pillars that the Earth's weight,
Unseen amid the high shadowed vaults
And plumbed profound darkness,
Blacker than all midnights had been.
Yet deeper into the abysmal Ishtar went,
Seeking in the very roots of the Earth
Planted long aeons past by the Archons
Into whose hands she now cast herself.
Thus went Ishtar to the gates of Sheol,
Found in the darkness without light
Where primal Mummu eternal slept.
Thus stood Ishtar before Mot's gates
And there demanded entrance
And audience with the king
Of that dark Land of Shadows.
With resounding and imperious tongue
She commanded those lemures that watched
Over the portals of despair
That would open but one way
And permit no egress,
Demanding that they should open wide the doors
That she might pass inwards
And address Mot himself.
With such sorcerous runes did she bind them
That no will had they to defy
That which she willed of them.
Thus did open the gates of Sheol to Ishtar
And, passing inwards, shut behind
Not to open to release those that abided
Within dismal Sheol, but one way
Is there to pass through the gates of Sheol
And none may depart that land,
The last abode of the lost.
Amongst the shadows of Sheol,
Amongst the lemures and the ghouls,
Those that were but mist and whispers,
Ishtar sought out the throne of Mot
And of his consort, Ereshkigal,
Who had thought to take me for her own.
Nothing was there in those dark wastes
Across which she made her path
That was warm or nourishing.
But chill and famine abide
In the shadowed lands of Sheol.
About her at every step
Were snatching spirits, cold with death,
Possessed but of a vapours substance
And that grasped her not
But passed like fading nightmares
And were lost once more to sense
In the instant of her passing.
Ishtar sought that part
Were thickest were those spirits
That were imprisoned in that land
For there was the dark throne of Mot.
Now she stood before the two monarchs,
As but shadows, distinguished not
From the darkness of the land
But known to her only by some vague presence,
Intangible, invisible, yet perceived
As if the very soul grew eyes
By which those two Archons might be seen.
No more than shadows and whispers
Were Mot and Ereshkigal, ghostly,
As was all their realm, and unreal.
Now, before those ancient one,
Did Ishtar know fear
When, passing amongst phantoms,
She had known no terror
Even amidst the kingdom of despair.
Yet fear has long been our enemy,
The Shedim, who have stood against all
And remained unconquered by the greatest
Of the Archons, undaunted.
Ishtar conquered fear and bowed,
With mockery, before the king of death
And petitioned him with these words:

"Mot, Infernal King,
Lord of Sheol, Land of Shadows,
From Chadel have I come to stand here.
As an emissary from mighty Satan
Have I come to petition you
And bring you his words and will.
Know me, I am Ishtar,
Great amongst the Shedim
And no little potentate amongst Earth's kingdom.
So great a one as me is sent
For with no little concern does Satan
Consider the mission upon which I am sent.
From the Prince of Chadel have you stolen
That which is his most rightfully
And have treated with him shamefully.
Abducted to your realm are the shades
Of his noble children, the Nephilim,
When they should be returned to him
That first sired their race.
Satanael does demand of you their return
And that you shall abstain
To take further of what is his.
Most justly shall he deal with you
If you would deal fair with him
And accede to his demands most swiftly.
This then is the word of Satan
Of which I am proud herald.
Hear it and act as you would
Having heard that which is spoken."

And Mot laughed
And Ereshkigal with him.
Arrogant were they in age
And knew not the strength of the young.
Like the broken breath of the dead
Did that dry cackle echo all about.
No breath is there to the dead
Nor voice that they might laugh aloud.
The laughter of the Archons
Was silent yet heard,
Echoing about the dark vaults of the mind.
Yet Ishtar conquered fear.
Now spoke Mot his reply,
Yet no voice had he that spoke
But rather it was his words were dreamt
And recalled by the waking mind
As some paroxysm of disturbed sleep.
These words spoke the infernal king:

"O Ishtar, Whore of Babylon,
Well known to me is your fame
And I am most honoured that you come,
At Satan's bidding, to me
Indeed must his respect of me be great
That he deems such a messenger rightful,
Of such fame and power
As Ishtar, the queen of men.
Else is it that he prizes high
That which I hold, his souls
Of those precious children of the Earth,
That he himself would have.
Yes! Most dear to him are these ones
That are bound within my lands
That they would escape by his charms.
Yet I have unworked them.
Not so haughtily should he deal with me
For I am of the Archons.
No! He must deal most fairly with Mot
If he would see once more
These ones, dear unto to his heart.
For precious to me are the Nephilim
And prized are their shades in Sheol.
Their ransom is most great
If he would have them from me.
To redeem Satan's children from Sheol
Some part of the price has been paid
And your coming to me, Ishtar,
Stands against that which is yet owed
And I shall, in time, thank Satan
For the precious gift of your warmth.
It has been long since one so fair
Had walked in dismal Sheol.
A most fine consort are you
To warm me when I am so chill.
For some months I think
Shall Ereshkigal have a lonely bed.
Not at all will this serve.
Rather must I take some action
By which this disparity betwixt us,
King and queen of dark Sheol,
Might be made once more equal.
This shall I do, for it seem s most fair.
To Chadel shall go Ereshkigal
And, speaking there with Satan,
Shall secure from amongst the Shedim
Some plaything of her own.
Thus should appease her jealousy.
Only when my queen has been given an equal gift
To that which Satan has most generously given
To the king of Sheol, Mot,
Shall the terms of release
For the Nephilim shades that I hold
Be parleyed over by Mot and Satan.
Go then, my queen, and hasten to Chadel
And secure for yourself some lover
That is warm and fine for you.
Seek amongst the Shedim some strong-limbed prince
And bring him hither to join us
As we endure the long darkness
Here in the shadow of the primal darkness.
Go then, Ereshkigal, and return not alone."

Now went Ereshkigal once more
From the land of Sheol
As once before had she gone
To win from amongst the Shedim
Some companion for her dismal exile.
Now was Ishtar with none but Mot
In abysmal Sheol of the shades.
Now came Mot to Ishtar with hungry whispers,
Speaking a hundred entreaties to her
And then harsher words than pleadings,
Demanding with force that not one
By his subtleties and wile.
Most desirous of her embrace was he
That he might know for some small time
Her warmth before yet it was enshrouded
And then extinguished by his chill.
Yet every advance he made to her
Whether it was with cunning or with violence
Did she spurn and defy with these words,
A strong charm against that infernal king:

"Am I to lie down with the dead
And share with them their grave?
I shall not do so.
No breath or blood is there to them
That would warm their chill ghosts.
I shall not share then of that cold
For it would bleed all heat from me
And drink me dry of life
That I too would be of the dead.
I shall not so share of their darkness
For I am a lover of life
And would not share of death
But would rather share of life.
If you would release, O Mot,
The dead from this dark place
I would take them to me
And stir them once more to new life.
To the dead is this my gift.
Ask not again of me this thing,
To such a will shall I never yield."

Long months abided Ishtar in Sheol
And long months did she withstand
Every approach of the Archon
That lived upon those shadowed plains.
The twelve hallowed days of Yule
Were come and passed yet she abided there
And Ereshkigal returned not
Nor came any to redeem the Shedim priestess.
Long were the months of Sheol
And no sun was there to illumine day
So that all time was lost to Ishtar.
So as was time lost to her
So was she bereft of hope,
Knowing not what while she had waited
For some sign to come that she was remembered.
So is it in the land of despair.
Seven-times did she falter in her defiance
And was nigh persuaded by Mot's words
But seven times also did she make strong her resolve
And defy even then the land's despair.
Almost then was Ishtar overcome
And became forgetful of that pledge that I had made
And thought herself forsaken,
Abandoned to Mot's embrace.
Yet at that time, full of despair,
Sitting before Mot's throne
She saw as Mot did see a bird,
A crane of silver that flew fast to throne
And descended before the Archon,
Holding in a human hand a pouch,
Woven of most fine silks
And decorated with shining pearls,
Though in Sheol they shone not.
Now bowing low, the Shedim's herald
For indeed was this apparition Ashmedai,
Offered to Mot the burden and these words:

"O Mot, abysmal king of Sheol,
Most tardy have you been in reply
To noble Satan's embassy
So that he has become impatient with you
And has sent me as a second.
So that you might be more swift
In greeting me with due honour
He has seen fit to furnish a gift,
Worthy of a king so great as you.
Most desirous of those shades
That he deems to name as his own
Is he that he offers you this thing
That you might perceive that way
In which he would deal with you
For the Nephilim souls that you have snatched.
Having so received of his generosity,
Will you not then be fair in your parley
That the Prince of Chadel might receive
That which is his most rightfully.
This missive also was I bade convey.
Return to us Ishtar that you keep
For Satan would not see her languish here.
More than this I have none to speak
Until you have looked upon Satan's gift
And know more of how you must treat with me."

Thus saying did Ashmedai bestow the sack
And Mot received it.
Opening the cloth, he put in his hand
And withdrew from the sack that which it held,
Indeed a most dread apparence.
What gift did I bestow on Mot,
He that had chosen to be my enemy?
From the fine pouch a most gory thing was issued,
The bleeding head of Ereshkigal,
The hag-bride of Mot.
Even cold Mot became hot with ire
At such a presentation to him
And raged most great against Ashmedai,
Howling and crying out,
Brandishing with wrath his black fist.
Yet before such a storm stood calm
Both Ishtar and Ashmedai.
These words did Mot speak in his rage
To the Shedim that faced him
And fled nor yielded to his rage:

"Accursed Shedim, would you so treat
With the king that commands your fate?
Why do you dishonour me so
With this affront, calling a gift
What is an offence against me?
Do you imagine that my vengeance will be light
When my shame is so great
Should such crime go unavenged?
No! Most sore indeed shall you pay
For Satan's perfidious embassy.
Ten thousand pains and torments
Shall be known to you here in Sheol
And think not of escape from here.
Those that pass into Sheol
They pass not out once more.
The gates open without only by my command
And close tight save when I will it.
Fully at my mercy are you two
And for you have I no mercy.
Never shall you leave Sheol
For the gates are ever closed to you.
Most unwisely have you acted
And your precious prince has damned you.
Never shall the shades he seeks
Be restored to him
And not shall his ambassadors
Be returned to his house.
Those that would try me so
Shall be most wretched
When it comes that I reckon with them.
Do you hear me, Satan?
Can you imagine what fury
That your recklessness has loosed."

So spoke Mot, king of Sheol.
Yet even hearing such dire injunctions
And perceiving the ire of the king
Not daunted was Ashmedai
But smiled irony at those words,
Bleeding with bile most venomous.
So spoke Ashmedai in reply:

"O great king, surely you think not
That Satan would be so rash
As to so challenge your throne
Lest already did he possess
The full means of your undoing.
You speak not of some weak spirit
But of him that struck down Gog and Magog
And of him that bested Adonai Yahweh
Upon the field of war.
Well has Satan met the Archons
And well indeed has he vanquished them.
Full half of their number have fallen,
Gog, Magog, now Ereshkigal,
By his most potent hand.
Most precisely did he forewarn
Of your reply to my embassy
And speak mockingly of your arrogant rage.
This one more gift have I for you, Mot,
To be given to you only at this time.
So did Satan instruct me.
See that which hold in my hand,
Now pour upon the dark waste of Sheol.
This dust, pale like bone, that slips,
Calcined, between my fingers,
Is not just gathered from the earth
Nor else the ash taken from any embers.
This is the sole remnant of that portal
By which you would bind us to this land.
Those gates that open outward
Only at your will are as much a hindrance
To our departing from you
As are the gentle breezes of the summer
Or else the new rain of spring.
No instrument have you, Lord Mot,
By which you might detain us here.
More than this, without your land,
Waiting at the threshold of your gates,
Now less that ruins, tramped down,
Are the hosts of Chadel gathered there.
But a horn-blast shall decide your fate.
Tarry no longer in releasing from your court
All those that Satan would redeem
Or else all your court shall be lost to you.
Pray act swiftly
Already do I tire of this dismal sepulchre
And would leave most expediently."

So it was that Ishtar left the land of Sheol,
Triumphant, with the Nephilim ghosts
Walking from the land of shadows at her back.
At her right hand was Ashmedai
That I had sent to redeem her
Most loved by Shedim and Nephilim.
At the gates a host of Chadel's people
Awaited their the princess, Ishtar,
And awaited Ashmedai and the Nephilim
That they might forever retire
From those grim portals and walls
And look no more upon desolate Sheol.
The first of that host to greet her,
She that walked upwards in triumph
Was Abaddon the Destroyer,
Captain of that great host
Sent forth to break into many parts
Those gates that closed in
Those that I would have freer than all things.
Shedim and Nephilim went from Sheol
And went from that most profound darkness
And sought by ascending passages
The gates of Chadel and the towers
That shone with the light of a fount of fire.
Upon the great feast of spring they came
Once more to the gates of Chadel,
Those gates from which Ishtar had departed
Full half a year, the long, cold winter,
Before the time of her returning.
First was I at the gates to greet
And welcome her once more to her people
That had mourned most bitterly her long absence.
Behind gathered a great throng
To welcome themselves their sister,
Returned, it seemed, from death itself.
These words did I speak to all that heard
But most to Ishtar whom I honoured:

"Joyous is this feast of spring
For once more, after the winter,
Does our sister Ishtar walk amongst us
And once more delight us with her presence,
Bright and noble, most highly treasured.
Long has she been denied us,
Withheld within the walls of Mot.
Bitter cold was the winter
Without beloved Ishtar's company 
That has warmed the winter's nights of old.
The snow has fallen upon the Earth
And the wind shrieked as a raven.
From the tempest have the Nephilim
Known no respite and the hearth
Has seemed most dim to them.
Long has it seemed that the winter would not end
And ever was the spring banished from us.
This day has seen the return of spring
And with spring has returned Ishtar.
A double blessing on us is this.
Ishtar, you are the bringer of spring,
And by your courage is death conquered
And what was dead has been made to live.
This feast of spring I shall name for you
So that the coming of spring
Shall be the triumph of Ishtar,
She that conquered the king of death,
She that has ended the long winter.
From this day shall the feast of spring
Be called for fair Ishtar
And this day shall be called Easter
And let all that hear the name Easter
Given to this most joyous of days
Know truly that it is named for Ishtar.
Thus do we honour you, brave one,
Queen of Chaldee and Kart-Hadasht,
Bringer of life, bringer of spring."

Thus was she welcomed to Chadel
And this is how the Nephilim
Returned from Sheol, released
From the bands of death
That they might be eternal.
Nevermore would my people abide in Sheol.
To the Nephilim have I made this promise:
All that has flowed from me
Shall return to me even after death
And once more shall flow from
Upon a great and circuitous course.
All that are born of me
All the Nephilim that shall exist
Shall be born ever of me
Again and again, without end,
With each rebirth waxing ever greater.
Eternal are the Nephilim that flow
Upon the eternal cycle
And they who do comprehend,
Perceiving that death does not diminish
But make ever stronger the Nephilim,
They shall have no fear of death
But only comfort in that true knowledge
That they exist eternally.
So it was that death was conquered.
For some years it was after that time
When the empire of Rome grew great
And the Latini came to eclipse
All other nations of the western world
Whilst yet did China prosper in the East
But not one of those two great kingdoms
Learnt of the other.
Proud Kart-Hadasht withstood not Rome's rise
And fell to ash before the conquerors,
Well mourned by the Shedim.
From Assyria to Iberia ruled that city,
Corrupt and strong, most tyrannical,
Rome of marble streets and seven hills.
Even the people of Isaac
That now were named Israel
Paid homage to Caesar and knelt
Before the throne of Rome
As they fell before the throne of God.
The children of Aeneas, betrayer of Carthage,
Reviler of fair Tanit, stood not alone
To conquer the kingdoms of men
But by them in the shadows whirled
A weapon of four blades, and they were made strong
By the sorceries of one of Heaven's sons
Who won by wile what was lost to might.
Dark ambition ruled the spirit
Of the second prince of Heaven
And his whispers ruled the minds of men
And by ten thousand hidden movements
Made emperor of all the world
That was known to the people of the West
Octavian that was called Augustus
In the later days of his kingship.
Nowhere was there in the motions of history
That I saw not his hand
But saw not the arm that guided.
It was as though I matched myself against a shadow
And I prevailed not against his subtle ways.
Yet it was that the shadowed foe
Was himself caught up most abstruse motion
And struck down by a hidden hand.
Amongst the daughters of Isaac
Was one woman of great beauty
And it was that the Elohim eyes
Of dark Gabriel beheld her
And were taken not from her
But held by sorcery more potent
Than Gabriel had power to overcome.
Can it be that those that have love betrayed
And defied all bonds of that blessed spell
Might know the vengeance of outraged amour
And submit to its potent poison
That burns in the veins like flame
And ignites the very soul with heat?
A venom sweeter than nectar,
A pain more delighting than joy
Seized upon the soul of Gabriel
Who had forsaken love but learned
That the same bond forsook not him.
Love, power greater than all
More holy and more abominable
Than the mystic or the tyrant.
Even death reckons not with your power
Yet was set free by your bands.
Why have you wrought such suffering
Upon the children of my love
By the agency of hatred's prince,
Gabriel, traitor to you?
Why so move his hand to destroy
So much that was fine and good?
I shall not revile you for this thing, Love,
Though most bitter is it to me
For I have seen too much of your power.
Betrothed to a simple carpenter was she,
Mary, beloved of Gabriel the Hater,
How did your bolt fly so untrue,
And was it a difficulty to him
Prince of Heaven's might and hidden king
Of the fortunes of most potent Rome
To take that maiden girl which he sought?
She, what had she by which to defend,
Against such a love, such a lover.
Simple, pure and young she was
And, appearing to her a vision
Of such glory and brilliance to blind princes,
What recourse had she before such presence.
Such a tongue spoke with words and voice
Of authority as she had never heard.
What was she to him?
One so much in his power
Should not, it seemed to Gabriel,
Master him so well.
Was it then an act of love or hate?
Was it then loving or rapine
That Heaven's prince enacted on that day?
Did he yield to the spell that held,
Overcome by passions beyond his strength,
Or was it that he avenged himself on love
And sired misery by an act of hate?
Never has the creative act destroyed so much
As on that most fatal of days.
The intensity of that passion seared
The very world to ashes
Though the flame burned most slow.
At that time it was that Rome
Declared a census in all their lands
And the carpenter, with his wife,
Burdened with a child of love or hate
Yet not of that line traced back
To Bethlehem, journeyed thither,
For it was his father's town.
Great with child was Mary
And it was manifest to her
That her child would soon be born of her.
Swiftly then made they haste
To Bethlehem even as she cried out
With the birth-pains of the child.
At that time a comet burned in the sky
And was above Bethlehem.
A dire portent was that burning shaft
That flamed amongst the stars
Just as a beacon of the birth
Of Gabriel's monstrous son,
Doomed to doom the Nephilim
And enfold in darkness the Earth.
Thus beneath the omen of the fallen star
In the town of Bethlehem was the child born.
Gabriel's son came forth from Mary
And his eyes burned with a savage fire.
Apparent to all was his Elohim blood.
Bloodied, long and tormented was that birth
As though very world resisted
A child that bore so great a curse,
A child born of tainted love.
No infants wail came from those new lips
Nor sought they the mother's breast
But even the first breath drawn inwards
Was expired as speech intelligent
And those that heard, mother and her consort,
Were at once dismayed and amazed
That a new-born child should speak
With the tongue of full grown men.
So did the child speak:

"Behold this wondrous sign
And know that God's hand is here,
Working great deeds upon the Earth
That all the kingdoms of men
Might fall down in worship
Before the one, true God,
Adonai Yahweh. whose hand is reached out
To command the motions of the sky and Earth
And direct the minions of high Heaven.
I am Jesu, most holy messenger,
Son of Heaven, that walks on Earth
That all men might hear me
And heed well those words that I shall speak.
Now is it that Shalem kneels to Rome
But, by me, shall Rome kneel to Shalem,
Consecrated by my holy foot.
This is the first of many signs that I shall show
That men may turn from wickedness to God
And thus may be redeemed.
Those that take not care of me,
Most wretched are they,
For they but earn Heaven's wrath.
I am as a torch in the darkness
And by my tongue shall the gentiles be made prostrate
That they do due worship to the true God
But also have I come for Isaac's children
For they are unheeding of the true law.
Thus am I sent from Heaven to bestow
Upon the entire world this gift.
If you would but kneel to God
Of His great vengeance shall you be saved
And shall enjoy everlasting bliss."

Thus was born the child of Gabriel,
Sired by love or hatred I know not
But to taint all love with hatred
And to weave fine things
Into a bloody tapestry of wrongs.
Even as they had whispered to him in the womb
Did they whisper to him in childhood
And as he grew to be a man
They whispered still though others heard them not,
The Elohim of Gabriel's sympathy,
Descended to him to sing of Heaven
And, over and over, tutored him
In that which he should speak
Until he was completely given over
To those lies that they taught him.
Yet even when he was but a child
Did those of Heaven perceive his destiny
And that which would be wrought by him.
Michael looked down from his prison-tower
Where he ever watched all those about
Whether without or else within,
Ever guarding for the hidden knife
Or else the cup brim-full of venom.
No ease was there for Michael,
Fallen far from Adonai Yahweh's favour
Even as he had cast me far
And now the traitor was betrayed
By a thousand imagined threats.
He saw on Earth below this Jesu
And fear cleaved strong to him.
Despite the madness that howled within
And drew to his sight alone
Visions of ten thousand hidden blades
Each clutched by some shadowed form,
His Elohim craft revealed to him
What would be in future days
And he perceived within the young child
That by this agency would his power be destroyed
And Jesu's father would gain over him
Ascendancy in his father's eyes
And for himself, eternal exile,
Even as he had once banished another.
Now was there a great dread
Of that infant born to Mary
In the heart of corrupted Michael
And he sought most resolutely
The death of that child
That would bring his final overthrow.
So did Michael descend from his tower,
Unwillingly, and from Heaven
That he might act upon the Earth
To end the child's life as it began
When the son of Gabriel was yet young.
To the king of Israel did he descend,
Herod the great, tyrant of that land
And servant to the lords of Rome.
Approaching him while he slept
He passed all sentries with a cloak
Woven from the very stuff of night
And intruded in upon the dreams,
Dreamt by the king.
Glorious seemed Michael to Herod's slumber
And terrible to the sleeping king.
With dire warning of ruin did he counsel
And incite the king to action
Against the boy-child, himself fearing
The regent destiny of the infant.
With these words did he command
The king to most vile butchery,
Speaking with a voice, trembling
With both rage and fear:

"Herod, hear me, king,
From Heaven am I come
With most sorry news to you.
Hear me, must you, else much is lost,
Yet act with haste and it might be saved.
You cannot know what doom is fallen
Upon the kingdom of Israel
And it would be lost to you
Lest you strike out against the danger
That has grown from a dark seed
And would topple down the walls of Shalem.
In your kingdom is a child born
That would grow to be a man
And to be a king to seize
That kingdom you would rule
Or else destroy it by his hand
And with it you that rule.
Be swift and resolute in action
That never does the child grow
And become a man and king.
Thus are your kingship and Israel preserved.
What is to be a king
Who would not hold what is his?
What is to be a potentate
Who would let his enemy grow strong against him?
No time is this for weak pity
For a new-born monster is yet monstrous
And every tiger was once a cub.
Spare not the children in the land's defence
But send forth your warriors
And strike down the male children
Born within the year
That this one shall not escape your wrath
But know destruction that he shall never grow
And oppose your most righteous kingdom."

Having thus spoken to the king
And worked his base persuasions
Michael, fearing to tarry there,
Flew the Earth and made fast within his tower
To observe from far off
The consequence of those words spoken.
Herod had learnt well the ways of Rome
And was unmindful of any care
For which path was right and noble,
Forsaking all that made man fine.
Long seared from the city's bones
Was all consideration of honour.
Face, fame and wealth were the sole measure
And he that betrayed was held highly
If he could win for himself
Those carnal things revered by Rome.
Rome priced a man with gold
And forgot all of virtue. 
Thus, with such a revelation,
No hand withheld the king's vengeance
Upon a child unwronging.
Yet Herod knew not which child to seek
But rather gave this command to his men.
That every child within his lands,
Male and born within the year
Was to be taken from the parents
That had begat the son
And killed lest it be that one
Which should grow to be a man
That might destroy his corrupt dominion.
This terrible thing did he command
And his warriors, paid with gold
And of virtue most forgetful,
Fulfilled the command of Herod,
Fulfilling the command of Michael,
Who, like Herod himself,
Would fall unceasingly into the dark abyss
That he might preserve his sovereignty
Over the Elohim of Heaven.
Thus Herod became but a mirror
To the criminal soul of Michael
Who, by the Flood, had slain my children.
So went forth the soldiers of Herod
To carry out his bloody instruction
And went across the land
To slay the infant sons of Galilee.
How could I raise my hand against them
That so destroyed the innocents
That I raised not my hand against my children
Though I had given them over to Heaven?
Since that day of sorrow
When had Abbadon struck down Methuselah
And brought upon my children the Flood
It has not been the Shedim way
To make war upon the Nephilim.
Too well do we know the price.
So did we watch and weep,
Spilling out oceans of tears for Michael's wrongs.
One was there that wept not
But acted with a bloody hand
To defend his own son.
Against that which Michael worked
Worked Gabriel, descending to the Earth,
Flying most swift from Heaven,
Falling as a fulmination to that lower realm
To act in defence of his son.
Appearing in a blast of flame
He appeared to Mary and warned
With these words the mother of his son
To deliver the suckling babe from Israel
Unto the river kingdom of the Pharaoh's
That offered libations at the altar
To Ashmedai, the thrice greatest,
And to Aset, the bright goddess.
Even as the soldiers of the king burst inwards
With naked swords to claim the child
Gabriel spoke these words with a desperate tongue
To that daughter of the Nephilim
That he had loved and of whose womb
Jesu, son of Gabriel, was born,
Addressing her with those words
With which he had first approached her:

"Mary, most blessed of the women of the Earth,
Mother to that prince most blessed
That is the very son of Heaven.
Swiftly must you fly hence
For it is that Herod, king of Israel,
Grows jealous of the blessing of your son
And perceives in that boy
That which would eclipse his kingdom.
Thus, in his fear and hatred,
Has he sent forth soldiers against us
That the child shall be destroyed.
This must not be.
Take hence the child unto Egypt,
The great kingdom of the Nile
For there shall you be protected 
And Herod's arm shall not there reach.
Make haste then that the precious child
Is saved from Herod's wrath.
Those that would pursue you
I shall thwart them
And shall watch you on the road of exile.
Have no fear for you shall be provided for
Even as your ancestors were succoured
As they fled here from that land
Which you now make to.
Go then, Mary, and fear not."

Then with a word of power
Gabriel made blind the eyes of men
To the passing of the mother and the child
Even as he fell upon the soldiers
That had come to destroy the boy.
As Mary fled with her son in her arms
From the house that had homed them
And went upon the road to Egypt,
Terrible cries came from within.
No strength had Herod's men
Against the full wrath of Gabriel
As he went amongst with four blades singing
And, cutting to every side,
Made bloody butchery of the stricken killers.
Even as he whirled the dreadful instrument
He howled his rage and the battle's joy
So loud that even Heaven heard his voice
And Michael in his high tower
Fell to his knees with fear,
Knowing well that his part
Would not long be unknown to Gabriel.
The company that yet waited without
Heard both howls and screams come from within
And such fear took them
That they had not strength to flee
That even when came forth from the portal
A dread form, crimson-dyed with blood,
They were cut down like wheat,
Standing unresisting before the scythe.
So did Jesu escape the wrath of Herod.
The child, in Egypt, abided seven years
And then, when the tetrarch had but forgotten
All that misery his hand had wrought
Was Jesu restored to the land of Israel
And returned to his mother's town
Which was called Nazareth.
There did he grow and become a man.
Even as he did grow to manhood
Again and again descended Gabriel from Heaven
To instruct him in many arts
And to inscribe upon his soul
Belief in a great destiny
That he might win for himself
The faith of those born Isaac
And those that I had not surrendered.
When he was of fifteen years
Went forth Jesu into the wilderness
And there, in the desert,
With but scorpions and jackals
And with but locusts for his meat
Did he think to meditate forty days
That the spirits of the wild places
Might be tamed by his hand
That he might command them
And master thus the sorceries
That Gabriel had taught to him
By the agency of dreams.
Now upon this chance I seized,
Perceiving his solitude in the desert
That I might dissuade him from that path
Upon which he now walked
For my eyes saw but too clearly
That its outcome would be but ruin.
Every oracle cast by the Shedim
And every omen that was read
Told of nought but some unlucky end
For the child born of Mary
And in that ending yet greater woe.
In dying, so did I see
The son of Gabriel would damn to death
Ten thousand myriads of the Nephilim
And by his death would make dark
The destiny of man for two thousand years.
So perceiving him in my mirror,
Alone in the wilderness
Save for scorpions and jackals
I went forth from Chadel's gates
And went with great swiftness
To the son of Gabriel upon the Earth.
Going to him in the desert,
I conjured from the wind loaves of bread
That I might feed the hunger of his fast
For even this one of my children
I loved without condition.
No great beneficence of mine was this
But the simple instinct of the parent.
To love mankind without complaint
Is the lot of Satan
And to weep bitter tears for you
That are so bent on hatred.
This love, perhaps, I have found
As a common treasure with Gabriel
But no more shall I share with him.
Thus did I seek the man,
Knowing that I could not persuade
A heart so bound with Gabriel's deceits
But knowing also that, should I not try,
The burden of a thousand future sorrows
And the cries of the children's torment
Would weigh double upon my heart.
Better is it to fall short of a hope so distant
Than to know the regret of inaction.
When faced with the wrongs of the world
It is not enough to say:
"Nothing could I do to hinder this."
One must speak with an honest heart:
"All that it was in my power to do
Was, by my power, done."
To struggle ever against adversity
Even when hope itself is lost
Is the true road of the noble soul.
Thus was it, with love and despair,
That I went to Jesu in the desert
To urge him from the road he walked
So far into the darkness,
Bearing loaves of bread with me.
So appearing before him
Did I give him start and he looked to me.
But for a moment did he look upon me
Then he turned from me
And made to walk thence.
Expecting this much of one so deceived
By one that should have taught more honestly,
I made haste to follow
And, going after the anchorite,
I called out these words to him:

"Jesu, son of Gabriel,
Will you not first hear my speech
Before you judge so absolutely
The intent with which I come to you?
Look! Have I not brought bread to you,
Knowing you to be hungry with fasting?
See that your flesh fades from your bones
With this sojourn in this barren place.
The sun blasts us here without mercy
And sears from us wit and strength.
Is it so much to sit with me in the shadow
And eat of this bread?
It is but wisdom to do so.
I come with no ill for you
For you are of my children, Jesu,
And though you would be my enemy
I would love you yet.
Is this a thing so wrong
That you fly the ancestor of your mother?
Are you so deceived by your father
That you would see evil in an act of love?
Alas, I see that it is so
And I do mourn your spirit
For in you there is much that is noble
Of both that in the Nephilim
And what was once of the Elohim.
Listen then if you will not eat.
Though I know that you seek but good
That noble intent is cruelly seduced
For another purpose by he that is your father
For though you would not know it
Gabriel is father to you
Despite that he would claim Adonai Yahweh
To be a father to you.
By these deceits would he lead you on a road
That goes to no good place
But some most miserable resolution.
Most great is my affection for you
And I would not see this be.
Well do I know that you would hear me not
But I would so much that you would see
To what an end it is that you would come
If you yet heed the lies of the Elohim.
You have heard then my counsel
And remain unmoved by my entreaties.
So must it then be.
Each man must choose for himself a road
And I have no authority to command you from it,
Knowing, even as I do, to be grave error.
This road then you must walk
But, at its end, you shall be alone
And your voice, crying out,
Shall be unheeded by the ears of Heaven
Even as you have not heard my entreaties.
Go then upon this way that you have chosen
And know that you walk to ruin."

So did I speak to Gabriel's anointed son
Yet he heeded not my words
And faced me not but turned from me
That he would not hear those words
That seemed as temptations to him.
So did I myself turn from him
And left him to his hermitage.
Thus did I return to Chadel's gates,
Weeping for man's folly
And the sorrow of his blindness.
Only that, by some act of will,
He could make whole his sight
And see with undarkened vision
Then he might be uplifted from the pit
And rise, deified, soaring,
An eagle amongst the distant stars.
This is not a gift of mine to give;
Alas, it is the prize for you to win
And Jesu did not but perceive.
How then could the blind man reach out
And seize this precious thing?
Yet ever are there those that will not see
Even the most resplendent glories.
What is most tragic is that Jesu's flawed vision
Would obscure for long ages
The sight of all men
And they would reach not.
This darkness did Jesu go forth
From the desert to teach to the Nephilim
Even as the Elohim had taught to him.
Some were there that heard him
And heeded that which he spoke
And took it to themselves as truth.
Others yet he persuaded by the agency
Of the sorceries that he had learned.
To health did he restore the sick,
To wholeness he restored the cripple.
Any that would know the secret charms
Might accomplish such things as these
And deeds greater yet or more subtle.
Indeed to the eastern disciples
Of the ancient Zarathustra
Or to the druids of the West
Such acts were simple things
That Jesu performed as great.
Yet by these fraudulent persuasions
Did he win to himself many
For at that time many sought some new way
For it seemed to them that the old way had failed
When Shalem to the Aeneans fell.
You might offer to a thirsty man
Poison and he would drink.
Yet that he proclaimed himself the Son of God
Was as a blasphemy to the teachers
That spoke to the Judaeans the laws,
Inscribed in stone for Moses
By the Elohim in prior days.
Seeing that the people heard his lies
Though in truth there were not his,
They were the lies of Heaven
But were the truth of Jesu,
The teachers at the synagogues
And Cohanim at the temple
Sought to silence the tongue of Jesu
That they might win back to them
The souls of the people lost to them
By that which he had spoken.
So did they gather themselves together
And went with one mind and one voice
To Pontius Pilate that was suzerain
Over Judaea by the will of Rome.
Arrayed in their robes they went before him
And before him did they fall down,
Those that before knelt to but God
Now knew the kingship of Caesar
And took care to treat most humbly
With that one he had appointed
To speak and hear for him in the land.
Passing into the palace of the Romans
They looked about them and beheld
High pillars of porphyry and images of marble,
Likenesses of the gods of that people
And their proud monarchs that with the gods
Did number their own persons.
Upon the walls were mosaics of many things:
Bulls, porpoises and wondrous creatures,
Made bright with tiles of shining colours,
Blue, white, green, red and gold.
It was as though Heaven's arrogance was descended
And abided now upon the Earth.
The hands of the Elohim can nothing cast
That does not become their own image.
They cannot loose those shackles that would bind
Nor digress from the fatal road
Upon which it is they walk.
Yet they toil endlessly to go therefrom
And in using my children in their travail
They but damn them to the fate of Heaven.
So did the Pharisees go forth
In Heaven's very image, wrought
By Gabriel's hidden hand.
Coming then before the representative of Caesar
They bowed low to him and spoke
Words of subtle persuasion
That they might, by his hand,
Destroy that which was their enemy.
As I gazed upon this from afar
I perceived well the irony of that scene
That I had seen so oft before
Now echoed upon the Earth.
Before them in robes of purple
And upon a throne of gold
Sat Pilate, the lord of those lands,
And with these words did they entreat:

"Lord Pilate, majestic lord,
Emissary of Eternal Rome,
Most august one, 
Judicious and potent magistrate,
Hear the embassy of your people
That are most devoted servants to you.
We place ourselves into your hands
In the knowledge of your wisdom,
Knowing that you shall judge our words
With both fairness and sagacity.
Great indeed is the potentate
That sits above his people
Closer to Heaven than to Earth
But upon his own wits alone
Such a monarch cannot depend
For such sublime majesty removes
The sovereign somewhat from the mundane world
Which he should not deal with
It being so far beneath him.
Upon faithful servants then does he depend
To administrate and bring intelligence
That he might rule most rightly.
In that second capacity let us then act
And tell of that which passes in your dominion.
Of those that dwell in Palestine
Is there one Nazarene of Galilee
That does proclaim himself divine
And crowns himself king of these lands.
Thus does he seek to usurp
That which is to Caesar and to Heaven.
Yet with his most devious speech
Does he stir the people of the land
Against Rome's most beneficent rule
And against the religion of their fathers.
This one that is named Jesu
Does preach both sedition and blasphemy
And, by his sorceries,
Those that hear are persuaded
And make rebellion against high Caesar.
Well would it be for you
To reach out in wrath against this one.
Send your men to seize him
And destroy him like a criminal.
When the people see this king
Treated as any thief deserves
Soon will their misplaced faith be lost
And restored to the rightful object.
Send men, therefore, to accomplish his arrest.
Thus shall your kingdom be made strong.
Hear then our suit to you
And heed well our counsel for it is good.
Treat well with those that are devoted to you.
Hail Caesar. Hail Pilate.
Praise to Adonai Yahweh."

With such words did they seek to win
To their cause the aid of most potent Rome.
How well the Elohim had taught their nation,
Instructing them in the art of flattery.
Pilate heard the sycophants
And pondered on their words.
Having then considered this intelligence
And read in what was said
That which was not spoken
But no less said by the Judaeans.
This reply did he give to them:

"Who are these thralls that make such approach?
They are indeed most arrogant.
Do they deal with their own god so?
I should that indeed they do not
For if their Adonai Yahweh were so mighty
As they would claim him to be
They would not such presumption.
Who are they that they lecture to me,
Telling me how my duties are to be done?
Caesar himself has appointed me emissary
And given this land to my keeping.
Not only then do they insult me
But make insult also to the divine emperor.
Am I then to believe of these ones
That they are wanting in loyalty to Tiberius?
Surely such a thing would not be so.
Maybe I should make apparent to them
That power which Rome holds over them.
No! I shall show them mercy
For their pretty speech has much amused me.
Does this seem fair to you, Judaeans?
It matters not whether you think
That I be just or not
For despite your flatteries
You are as nothing to me.
However, it is a wise sovereign
That hears the words of his slaves
And tries to accommodate, upon occasion,
That which they would will.
I shall send the soldiers of Rome
To seek out this one you tell of
And they shall bring him before me
And I shall weigh the evidence on both sides
And then sentence this Jesu.
If he does indeed speak against Caesar
Then it is right that he is punished.
So is it that I have commanded,
Go then from my presence
Lest I grow tired of you
And have you amuse in some other way."

Hearing so these words of Pilate
Swiftly did the teachers of the law
Flee from him in fear.
So was it that the soldiers went out
And sought out Jesu to arrest him.
Yet the son of Gabriel was warned
By those amongst the legions of Rome
That were sympathetic to him
And he hid from those men that came for him
And by sorceries made himself obscure,
Speaking charms to divert those eyes
That sought him in his place of hiding
That the seekers passed by him
And did perceive him not.
Thus did the hunters return
Without their prey within the snare.
Looking down from his high tower
Michael once more beheld the Earth
From which his sight was so long turned
And his power pierced most easily
Those enchantment by which Jesu was hid.
Now did he stir within the heart
Of one of those with the son of Gabriel
Great jealousy of the teacher
And with most cunning charms
Turned against the master
The intent of the disciple.
This one was named Judas Iscariot.
Thus was it that this Judas stole
From the place of hiding by night
And went to the Pharisees
That sought the destruction of his mentor.
For thirty pieces of silver he sold
That which had been most dear to him.
Judas was brought to the constables of Rome
And brought them to the house where hid
Jesu, son of Gabriel,
But bursting in upon the house
They found nothing there within.
So did the Pharisees and the captain
Of the soldiery of Rome
Turned upon Judas Iscariot, saying:

"Deceiver, why bring you us hither?
None lie within these walls
And none abide beneath this roof.
Thorough search have our men made
And found not the one we seek
That you are compacted to bring us to.
Your love of money has made you simple
And this trick you have wrought on us
That you might grasp our silver
Will yet not avail you
Nor shall you profit by this ruse.
Return to us our silver swiftly
And we shall spare you much pain
When we chastise you for this chicane."

Now did Judas fall upon his knees
For he was descended of Isaac
And had learnt well the Elohim arts.
Kissing the feet of the guards' captain
He begged his case and his life.
Most wretched Judas Iscariot
Perceiving that the betrayer was betrayed
By greed and cruel circumstance
Thought then to redouble betrayal
That treacherous betrayal be betrayed.
With these words did he address the Roman
And sought to preserve both life and silver:

"Please most merciful lord,
I beg of you to spare me
For I have not deceived you
But have myself been deceived.
Truly had I thought to find at this house
The person of the Nazarene
That you would apprehend.
He cannot have fore-knowledge of this deed
Therefore it is but circumstance that betrays
And not Judas Iscariot.
Let me ponder for a moment
What other place he might occupy.
Make not so swift your sword
Whilst I exhort to greater effort
My wit that I might determine
Where you shall find your quarry.
Now do I conceive of it:
Oft-times does he go to pray
At some garden near to this place
That is called Gethsemane.
Go there and if you find him not
Then strike me down as you will
But shirk not this chance to discover
That in truth I lead you not false
But have been most faithful in my dealings."

Jesu sat within the garden of Gethsemane
Some way from his most faithful
And invoked to him his father
Though he knew him not as genitor
But as an emissary of Yahweh.
As he sat amongst the shadows of the trees,
Amongst the leaves of which whispered
A mocking wind as it danced and grabbed
At the prophet's hair and cloth.
Then in an instance was all made silent
And the wind amongst the leaves
Was made still in the night.
Now did a cloud come across the moon
And a chill fell upon Jesu
And a profound loneliness was on him.
In the darkness of the night
He whispered to the Elohim
And sought of them some comfort.
Yet they answered him not.
With these words did he address
The silent spirits in whom he solace sought:

"O my God,
By day do I cry out to You
And at night I call and rest not.
But You are the Most Holy
And all Israel does praise you.
The ancestors of the land turned to You
And You made good their trust, delivering.
When they cried out, they were saved
And when they trusted to You
They met with no evil.
Why then must I be as a worm
And stripped of my humanity?
The people despise and revile me.
I am mocked and they shake their heads at me
And put out their lips in insult.
They have said, 'Why is your faith not repaid?
If you are beloved of God
Why should He not then deliver you?'
My enemies are about me like bulls,
The mighty bulls of Bashan.
Their mouths are as the maws of lions,
So do they raven and gape.
There are dogs that surround me,
A company of evil men.
They tear from my bones my flesh.
Lord, stay not from me
But come swiftly to my aid.
Deliver from the sword my soul,
Deliver from the dogs my life.
Guard me of the lions
And guard me of the horns of the Re'em."

Now about him where Rome's soldiers
And their swords were taken out.
Casting his eyes to all sides
He saw no path of escape.
Now did the constables of the law
Seize him by their hands 
And impelled him from the garden,
Binding him with cords.
So did they bring him before the priests
That he might be questioned
Before he was brought to Pontius Pilate,
Thinking that they might trick of him
Some word or unguarded speech
By which he might be shown guilty
That they would not pay false witnesses
To testify against him.
At that time was Caiaphas
High amongst Cohanim of God's temple
And before him was Jesu forced down
And made humble upon the floor.
Now, as a trapper with prey in snare,
Did he stalk about the prophet, beholding
His captive from all sides
And was well pleased with him.
Now did Caiaphas so speak,
Questions to invite such answers
That spoken in repetition against Jesu
Would most surely condemn him:

"Jesu, son of Joseph,
Unless you would speak otherwise,
Many words have been spoken
And many voices raised against you.
You are brought here but to determine
If that which has been said
Be false or true.
All sides of the argument have I heard
And the testament of witnesses
Have I listened to over and over.
Now would I but hear the man himself
That is so reviled
That I might determine
What sort of man you are.
Pontius Pilate bears many duties
And must perform all with great diligence.
I would not therefore bring a case
If it had no foundation for its prosecution
But if indeed you are a wrong-doer
I am bound by my own duty
To bring you before Pontius Pilate.
My duties too are most burdensome
And my time is short for you.
Well would it reflect upon you
If you were to confess to these crimes
And I would speak well of you
As you are sentenced by Rome's proxy.
These then are the charges against you:
First, have you spoken against Caesar
And counselled to the Jews
That they pay not the taxes
That are due to Rome.
Second, have you blasphemed against God
Saying, "I would tear down the temple
Built to honour Adonai Yahweh
And, in three days, build it up
That it be more splendid than before."
You answer not these accusations
But remain silent and most still.
Only a guilty man would guard his tongue so well,
Fearing that it would condemn him.
How then will you answer these accusations?
Yet condemning silence!
Why must you make so hard
This road that we would walk?
Let me ask then another thing of you.
Are you the anointed Son of God?"

Hearing the words of Caiaphas
A man such as Jesu was
Perceived well the intent of the speech
And that in it was there but deceit
And that nothing that he would say
Could divert by the smallest degree
The design of Caiaphas.
Knowing then they he would die
Jesu resolved to proclaim his belief
For whether he confessed or denied
The end to him was the same.
So did he reply to Caiaphas:

"You ask me whether I am the Son of God
But if I say that I am
Then I shall know but destruction at your hands.
If then I refuted this thing
Then still would you destroy me.
No words can I speak
By which I might save myself.
This, then, shall be my answer to you:
Soon shall it be apparent to you,
The reply to that which you ask,
When you behold me at God's right hand.
Slay me if you must
But it would be a foolish thing
To strike down the Son of God.
Condemn me if you must
But take care that you condemn no yourself."

Hearing Jesu. son of Gabriel,
Speak such words as these to them,
The Cohanim most swiftly pronounced
Both verdict and sentence upon him:

"He is guilty and must die."

So, by night, was he taken
To stand before Pontius Pilate,
Governor over Judaea, appointed
By the emperor of distant Rome.
At dawn was he brought before him,
Pilate, who looked down upon him
As he was cast to the ground before him.
Now did he that would be king
Bleed of the whip's many cuts
And the savage fists of men.
His raiment was torn into rags.
Never had a king looked so wretched.
Yet, looking down upon him,
Pilate perceived that the captive
Gazed upward to meet his eyes
With a stare so piercing and noble
That Pilate, for but a moment,
Doubted not that he looked upon a king.
Now he turned to the Cohanim
That waited in the shadows like jackals
And with a nod doomed wretched Jesu
To die as a thief upon a cross.
Once more the soldiers of Rome took him up
And a cross was brought for him to bear.
He was made to walk the street of Shalem,
Bearing upon his back the instrument
By which distant Rome would destroy him.
He walked with bandits on that road
And upon each side came the city's people
To mock and laugh as the captives passed.
So was the son of Gabriel
Brought to Golgotha to die upon the cross.
The executioners put up the gallows
And thereto nailed him through shin and wrist
To hang there with to other men,
Sentenced to die as robbers.
Above his head they wrote,
"Behold, the King of the Jews!"
Upon his head did the soldiers place
A crown woven of briars
And they divided his clothes amongst them.
Now the sun rose, hot, unmerciful,
And his throat was parched with thirst.
Soaring higher, as though delighting
In every new suffering that it wrought,
The cruel orb of flame seared his flesh
Bereft of cloth to ward off the rays.
Now his strength was lost to him like steam
And his hope melted in him like wax.
Higher and yet higher rose the sun
And ever more savagely did it burn him.
Jesu, nailed upon a tree,
Would have wept at this fate
But had now tears to weep
That were not dried to salt by the heat.
To the Elohim that betrayed
He would have raised his voice
But his tongue would not move
And stuck to his palate.
But these words did he cry out,
In his abandonment:

"Eli, eli, lama sabachthani."

I wept to hear that cry
For him that could not weep.
Now the bright sun seemed dark to him
Even as it climbed to its zenith
And it seemed that his sight fell back
Into a black well behind his mind
As the maw of despair
Arose from the Earth to swallow him.
The mocking jeers of those that looked on
Became distant whispers to his ears.
A great fatigue fell upon him.
Through the shadow, through the shroud
That wrapped about him
And snuffed out wit and vigour
A voice rang most clear in his hearing:

"Never have I forsaken you
And I am indeed your god
Though you know not that I listened
And heeded your crying out.
Ever have I been with you
And my love for you is undiminished.
Yet I have failed you, my child
And I do crave your forgiveness
Before you expire and are returned to me.
When you were in the wilderness
I came to you and you turned from me.
Were that my arguments were more eloquent
Or that I had impressed more clearly
The danger of hat road you walked.
Had I shown more clearly to you
How you were deceived by your enemy
Though you knew him not.
I would that it were so.
I am Satanael, ancestor of all men,
That cut out his liver that you might have life.
Now this is the end of that life.
Yet I came to you in the wilderness
And persuaded you not
But caused you to turn from me
And walk to this terrible end.
Long have you been my enemy child
But now I am want only forgiveness
For I have failed in my duty to you
And you have come to this place,
Golgotha, the hill of the skull.
Now, I beg of you, 
Die not in the valley of despair
But be exalted upon the mount of hope.
So much have wrought with your life
That was most fine and noble.
Long shall your spirit live.
If it does seem to you now
That you have lead those that followed
Upon a road most false
Then this blame falls not on your shoulders.
No man may bear another's burden
And they walked this road of their will.
Much of you is there to me
That recalls ancient Lamech.
In life each man does things noble
But acts in error and falls to baseness.
This is the way of all men
And you have walked no different road.
Yet in death is all baseness relinquished
And fades with the flesh upon the bone.
The nobility of the spirit is set free
And is purified of all shame.
Thus in death to we find eternity
Only in that good which we have done.
In death are all things forgiven.
Child, your burdens have been most great
But now is that burden taken from you.
Let those that come after bear it
For you are redeemed of life's travail
And now might know rest.
There is no pain to touch you now
And Caesar's cruel hand can reach you not."

Now, at this last moment,
Did Jesu turn to me,
Having so long turned from me.
For some long moments were we caught
In the other's ensnaring glance.
What was between those eyes;
Love, sorrow, regret and pain.
For those last moments were we reconciled
And never was there such joy in weeping.
Too short now do those moments seem
As Jesu blew out his last breath
In these words to me:

"Father, into your hands do I commend my soul."

And gladly did I take it to me.
Blessed is he that sleeps within the Earth
That he is reborn through me
And lives eternal by his nobility.
Yet not all found peace upon that day
And one voice cried out in wrath
To see him that was his son
Suffer so upon the cross.
Thus stood Gabriel at Golgotha,
Unseen, even as was taken down the body
Of his one son amongst my multitudes,
And this curse did he roar
That it resounded betwixt Earth and Heaven:

"What have you done, you Jews?
You know not, in truth,
Both of the deed that you have wrought
And what consequence it shall have for you.
You have slain my son
That which in all the world I loved.
Now is there but hatred in me
And you are in full possession of it.
Hear me then, children of Isaac,
And tremble at my words for you.
Once had you called yourself the chosen,
The chosen people of Adonai Yahweh.
The days shall come when this is most ironic
And you shall renounce that hubris.
You shall curse Abraham for Isaac's birth.
Even the condemned shall be less wretched.
These walls of Shalem shall I tear down
And crush to dust your temple.
You shall be scattered across the Earth
And you shall be as leaves upon the wind.
Nowhere will you find a refuge from my wrath.
The days that fathers abided in Egypt
And were made slaves to the Pharaoh
Shall seem most blessed to you.
Never shall there be peace for you
And your enemies shall be on every side.
When your innocent children are slain
Then shall you know my grief.
Be most afeared, Judaea,
For these days are coming soon."

Now did grow black the sky,
Stained with the angel's wrath,
And in the temple of the Jews
The veil that hid the inmost sanctum
Was rent in two by an unseen hand.
The very Earth shook and raged
With the potency of the ire of Gabriel.
So was his curse upon the Jews.
Three ten years passed on Earth,
Now Gabriel was a player of chess,
Confounding with a thousand subtle moves
Those Elohim that played against him.
Those of Judaea and Rome he moved alike
That were weak to his manipulations.
Hither moved he and thither
And brought at last in war
To Shalem's walls, the Roman Titus.
Perceiving not the hand of Gabriel
That worked them to such an end
To their prophets had they paid heed,
The people of Israel, and heard
That Adonai Yahweh alone was king
And they made rebellion against the Caesars.
Now had come Titus against the walls
Of the great city of the Jews
With the legions of Rome behind him
And they made siege against the walls.
What recourse had they, the Jews,
As all the cohorts of Rome were set against them
And Heaven itself was in discord
As the brightest son of Adonai Yahweh
Sought the destruction of the chosen people.
The revolt of the Jews was founded upon Heaven
But even Heaven's foundation are rotted.
Well was it to defy a distant Rome
But now was Rome come to Palestine
And now did they tremble within their walls
For Rome was near and Heaven distant.
Great onagers hurled great stones
And bronze-beaked rams were brought against the gates.
Brave resistance did the Jews accomplish,
Fruitful resistance they accomplished not.
Now upon the day of triumph 
Gabriel, from the holy rock, cried out
From Earth to Heaven with these words:

"Do you see this, Michael,
What is become of the city,
The city of Shalem, beloved
And most treasured of the Elohim?
Now are her proud gates broken down
And her walls are taken by the foe.
Titus goes about the city as a tiger
And death he brings with him.
The tears of Isaac's children would fill oceans
And their spilt blood would quench
Even the eternal fires of the sun.
Yet not the fires lighted here this night.
Shalem burns, my brothers,
And her edifices become ash and smoke.
Your kingdom is broken upon Earth
But mine grows great.
Even now are the temple's stones
Ground to dust and the treasures looted.
Even Solomon the king that built
The temple of the Elohim
Forsook you at the end, perceiving
How lost is Judaea to you.
The Cohanim are brought to Calvary
Where it is they cry their last
Just as you once brought mine to that place.
Now shall he be as a god over men
And Jesu's name be resounded across oceans.
The children of Isaac are ruined
But the children of Aeneas shall wax ever great
And I shall wax great over them."

Broken stone and embers were there
Where once had Shalem stood
And the legions of Rome departed from that place,
Ruined by the curse of Gabriel.
The temple of Solomon was stamped down
And the people of Shalem were scattered
And cast into exile, their kingdom lost to them,
As had Gabriel the Hater prophesied.
Fourteen score of years did pass
And now did Constantine stand before Rome's walls
And made siege against Maxentius within
That he might win for himself kingship
Over all the lands of Rome's dominion.
To him was shown a vision of Gabriel,
Inscribing in flame upon the sky:

"By this sign shall you conquer."

It was the cross, shown to him.
To his hand was lent strength by Gabriel
And the prince of the Elohim fought at his side.
So did Constantine and Christ rule Rome
And in the East did he build for Gabriel
A bright new city of the Elohim
In a place that was called Byzant.
Swift-winged time tarried not
But soared above the deeds of men.
Birth, war, great things and small
Were seen and at once forgotten
By the fickle eye of history.
Great armies of the North came
Across the Alps as once had Carthage
And wrought on Rome that same fate
As Rome had wrought on Shalem
And, before that time, on great Kart-Hadasht.
Goths and Huns and Vandals all
Cast down the walls of Rome
And the glory of Gabriel was cast back to the East.
Gabriel looked upon the fallen walls of Rome
And wept and raged and recalled
Those ancient words of wolf-suckled Romulus:
"None shall leap my walls and live."
Now was Rome broken upon the rocks of history
And the Teutons leapt the walls.
The flood of Time's river washes all away
To make pure the land for those to come
That empire of my children, bound to none.
Gabriel swam against Time itself
But he knew it not.
Earth and Heaven were in agitation,
Famine, plague, comets and the shaking Earth
All prophesied calamity or overthrow.
War yet raged betwixt Byzantium and Persia
And both parties were made weak
By that unwon war, pouring all
Of their vessel into a fractured pot.
The lands were made desolate with war
And great was the misery of man.
It seemed to those that dwelt upon the Earth
That all things fine and noble
Were carried off upon a tide of blood and tears.
The Age of Gold was passed by the Nephilim
And now was an Age of Darkness upon them.
Much that was good was forgotten
Much that was fine was lost.
Ruin, despair and fear overtook
The noble souls of my children.
Forgive us! The Shedim turned their weeping eyes
From the sufferings of the Nephilim.
We could not bear to look upon you
So defeated by the toils of Earth.
How could we look upon those we made so fine
Come to this place of torment?
Did you need the invented flames of Gabriel
And the torments he devised for those against him?
Was Earth not Inferno enough for you?
Forgive us! Forgive your parents
That failed you in that most needy hour!
Not again shall we forsake you,
Our dear children, you shall not cry:

"Eli, eli, lama sabachthani."

Nevermore shall you suffer Golgotha
That we stand not with you
Nor partake equally of your misery.
We shall walk your road here from
That distance that we are able
Until you walk alone and we cannot follow.
Our eyes are ever prohibited that bright dawn.
Elohim and Shedim must pass from the world
And the Nephilim must rise beyond the highest limit
That ever Elohim wings strained for
And plumb those abysmal blacknesses
That the feet of Shedim have not trodden.
Yet although the Shedim dwelt in darkness
And the Elohim sat far from Earth
And closed fast the gates of Heaven
Gabriel eyes were turned not from mankind
But again did he seek tyranny over them.
In the wildernesses of Arabia
Where had once Ishmael been removed
By the mercy of hopeless Raphael
And where had his descendants prospered,
At Mecca of the Black Stone,
There went Gabriel to build his kingdom
When all other kingdoms fell to barbary,
When Rome and Byzantium were lost to him.
So went Gabriel amongst the Arabs.
They were a most fierce people
Like the lions of the desert.
War-like, proud, yet decadent,
Nurturing not fine things of the soul
But outer strength and greed.
It was as though they believed
They might make fecund the desert's wastes
By libations of the blood of men.
Well did they feed the jackals.
Yet amongst this savage people
Was a most noble child born,
Of Ishmael's lineage well extracted.
Yet before he was brought from the womb
Was his father dead
And he was not yet a man
When death took his mother also.
So it was taken upon the shoulders of his tribe
That they raise him unto manhood.
In the city of Mecca was the orphan raised
And he was bright amongst men
Though he mourned for two parents.
His name was given to him, "Muhammed,"
But the people of Mecca called him, "Trustworthy,"
For amongst all that barbarous crew
Was he of the few that nurtured in them
Both honour and wisdom.
Bright were the eyes of Al-Amin
And they saw clearly in the darkness.
He looked upon the deeds of his fellows
And saw their confusion,
As though they were lost in the desert.
He looked upon the raids across the sands
And saw nothing noble in this enterprise
And though those that returned with booty
Sang loud of their victories
He perceived but shame upon them,
The stain ill-spilt blood upon them.
He wept for his brothers
That were lost to his wiser way.
Even in the clamour of the strife
That seemed endless upon the desert
He heard the voices crying out.
He felt the yearning for a better way
Though they that yearned felt not.

"These men," spoke he,
"That think themselves most proud
And walk their bloody road, swaggering,
Know not the voice of their heart
That cries out to them in the darkness.
They hear not the song of their soul.
Willingly they walk this road
And it goes to no place.
Yet their inner voices counsel them
To seek a better, upward road
But these words are as spoken
In an unknown tongue of distant lands
And conceive not of the meaning.
So blinded are they with their ways
That they perceive not even this:
That there is a better way.
How then will they perceive the way to walk?
Surely was the world made not so dark
That Man can never find a greater road,
A path away from this sea of blood.
Surely we are not so hopeless
That we cannot fly our baser natures.
Though my brothers conceive not of it
I shall myself seek a brighter path
That leads straight and true
To some tranquil pool where men might drink
Of a purer draught, tainted not with sin.
I shall not yield until I find this way.
May all good spirits aid me in this quest."

I heard him not but another did.
Muhammed went unto the mountain
And there, within a cave,
Did meditate as a hermit,
Seeking thus to find wisdom
That he might perceive the way
By which the tribes of the desert
Might be brought from their barbary
And thence to enlightenment.
Ears are there that hear the lonely voice
And seek out the mystic's prayer.
Those are there that would use truth-seekers
And give to them deception.
As a vulture drawn to the kill
Came Gabriel to the hermitage
And as Muhammed prayed in darkness
He appeared as a revelation
To he that yearned so hard for a greater truth.
It was an easy thing to persuade
A mind that desired so to believe.
Now came he to the mountain cave,
Gabriel, as a vision of smokeless flame,
Burning brighter than the sun.
Before such an image of power
Fell Muhammed to his knees
Before the usurper prince of Heaven.
Now intoned Gabriel with a voice like trumpets,
With a word that burned like flame
Upon the parchment of Muhammed's heart:

"Recite!"

Now begged Muhammed of the vision
Though his words dried like water
Upon his trembling tongue before the angel
An answer to his question:

"Lord, what would I recite;
I that have no knowledge of letters."

This reply gave the searing flame.
This reply gave the voice of trumpets.
This reply was given as words of power
That burned as flame upon Muhammed's heart,
As script upon his heart's parchment:

"Recite in the name of the Lord that created,
Created Man of a blood-clot.
Recite! Your Lord is the Most Bountiful
Who taught man by the pen 
That which he knew not.
Man knows not his master and transgresses
For to Allah does all return.
See! The man that rebukes the servant of Allah.
Think! Is this right or pious?
Think! He that he denies Truth and heeds not
Realises not that Allah perceives all.
Let him then desist of this
Else he shall be dragged by the hair to Hell.
Let him call to him his allies.
We shall call the keepers of the eternal flame.
Obey not the sinful man.
Be abased and thus approach."

So did Gabriel win to him Muhammed.
So went Muhammed down from the mountain
And he went amongst the people of Mecca
And spoke to them of what had passed.
Now he went about the city
As a prophet amongst the men
And taught them of those laws,
Given to him by Gabriel of the Elohim
Who came often to him from Heaven
And spoke to him of these things.
Came he as the emissary of God
Or had now forsaken all deception there
And practised it but upon the Earth.
Did he now rebel against his father
Or by subtle deceit make Adonai Yahweh but a pawn
In his own stratagem?
No command of Heaven
Would now tame Gabriel
Who went upon the Earth as king
And his strength amongst men was great
That the Shedim had no strength against him.
To man was it alone
To cast off the shackles that he forged.
Now were those shackles still firm
And Gabriel yet wrapped my people
About with heavier chains.
Now went Muhammed about the city
And taught to men that which he was taught.
Some were there that heard his words
And heeded that which he spoke
And took to themselves the laws.
They were the few of many.
The many laughed and mocked,
Hearing that which Muhammed spoke,
Lies told to him by Gabriel.
They yet prayed to their idols
And glorified Ishtar and Aset
Though their idolatry was most corrupt
Much removed from perfect Shurupuk.
Shurupuk, Chaldee and Kart-Hadasht
Were long faded from the world.
Those that heeded not Muhammed
Went against him with stones
And drove him with his disciples
From the city of Mecca and cast
Them upon exile's road to Medina.
Now made Gabriel the voice of the prophet
Most eloquent of tone and word,
Beguiling as the sorcerer's tongue.
The people of Medina, hearing his clear voice,
Hailed him as God's prophet,
Though in truth he was not,
And were made to fall down upon their knees
Before Gabriel and Heaven.
Again did my children kneel:
They that should stand with pride.
In Medina did Muhammed raise an army
And march with it against Mecca
That he might avenge the slight against him.
Thus went he against the people
That once had taken him in as an orphan.
Now Gabriel's voice was ever in his ear
That he became bloated with flattery.
Thus did Gabriel bend to his will
A man born most noble amongst men.
Seeking that which was right
Muhammed was led far from truth.
Thus went he at the column's head
Thus went he against Mecca,
A very parody of Allah himself
Who had heard the lying tongue of Gabriel.
Elohim, you but hold the Earth as a mirror
And you make not in men
But that which you are in Heaven.
Now went the herald's to Mecca,
Bringing news of that host which came
To cast down the walls of Mecca
To cast down the people of Mecca to their knees.
Now sent the people of Mecca
Forth from their city gates
Their own host to meet upon the sand
Muhammed's disciples that went upon their knees.
Nothing noble is there to kneel
Before those that you would conquer.
At Badr were the forces drawn up
And at Badr did the hosts of Mecca fall
Before the standards of Medina.
Now came to me news of this battle
And I learnt that Gabriel went upon the Earth,
Marching at the column's head once more.
I learnt that the people of Mecca fell
Before the whirling scythe of Gabriel.
When Medina and met at Uhud,
Gabriel and Satan met there also.
Across the desert sands we came,
He that marched with Medina alone
Saw me at Mecca's foremost rank.
He alone descried my sword,
Bright with the borrowed light of the sun.
Now as the horns sounded across the dunes
And each side went against the other,
I joined combat with Gabriel once more
As I had fought him in the Flood.
The men that fell bloody to the sand
And those that exulted in the death
Perceived not the hidden war fought that day.
They knew nothing of the scythe and sword,
Those two that once were brothers,
Contesting above them, in winged flight,
The very fate of Earth and Heaven.
Mecca perceived not her champion
And Medina knew not their champion matched.
Weaving, darting, soaring, striking,
Once more were Elohim and Shedim at war.
So long were my eyes turned from mankind,
Sore with the mourning of Jesu, of Kart-Hadasht.
Shurupuk was lost to the Shedim
And the child Chaldee passed into but memory
Into the histories of Chadel.
Shurupuk was washed away with water
But Chaldee and Carthage with blood.
Men were drowned in their own blood.
I could not watch my children so.
Now my heart rejoiced
And I that had slept so long
Now awakened to the battle's ululation.
I that had been so long dead
Lived upon the day of Uhud's battle.
Of long reverie I was now unshackled
And even should Gabriel gain Mecca
I vowed that in a later year
I should bereave him of the Earth
And take Heaven of him also.
Without his patron's aid to avail
Muhammed was cast back from Mecca
And his forces, in disorder, to Medina
And he won not his vengeance.
Even as Gabriel fled to Heaven
He cried out to me with these words:

"Uhud is won to Mecca
And by your aid have they indeed conquered
But I am patient yet.
What is not won at first
Is yielded with a second assault.
You defeat me this day, Satan,
But not ever am I defeated.
Mecca shall fall to me and Medina
Even as Carthage fell to Rome.
Not all the Hannibals and Archimeds
Could deliver your little jewel from me.
My legions conquered Africa's beloved
And her walls resisted me not.
Remember you not Syracuse
And how Rome came against her
With men and ships to take her walls.
Remember the thousand devices built
To hold her gates against my hosts.
Every wit of Archimedes was employed
As onagers and cranes consigned my ships
That assailed the seaward side
Into the deeps beneath the waves.
Machines that cast a thousand bolts
Against siege upon the landward side
Made sore carnifice of Rome's armies.
Yet for all the wile of that man
Syracuse was lost to Carthage.
So is it with Mecca,
So is it with mankind."

Mecca, why did you fall?
In falling you have made my children fall.
They fall upon their knees to you;
They fall upon their knees to Heaven.
Mecca, you have shamed my children,
You have bound to slavery the Nephilim,
They that are the tribe of kings.
From Spain to Sumatra they kneel to you
Because you withstood not Muhammed
The prophet of Gabriel the Deceiver.
Did I not win Uhud for you?
Yet but five years did pass
And Muhammed walked your streets as victor.
Where are the Nadir, the Khaybar?
Muhammed you have partaken of that hate
Which destroyed Shalem and Masada.
You have put Isaac's children to the sword.
City of Ishmael, hear me!
I shall be avenged upon you.
I am coming to grind to dust
The sacred house of the Black Stone.
The text of your sacred recital
Will be erased forever from the memory of man.
Its parchment shall be made ash.
May the sands of the desert take you.
Not forever are your bright domes;
Not forever shall the Nephilim kneel to you.
Butchery is worse than idolatry
And your streets are as bloody as Shalem's.
Time had passed again.
Rome and Mecca contested Shalem.
Their warriors' blood makes bloody
The bloodied streets and the blood of innocents
Stains three cities of the Elohim.
Wars of the Cross or Holy Struggle,
It was butchery most foul, no more.
Now a star was rising in the East.
A champion and a hero of the Nephilim,
Never was there one amongst men
Who won so much glory and shame so great.
Never were voices raised in praise so loud
Or in lamentation.
Temuchin, you were as the tiger,
Proud and strong, cruel and terrible.
Did you think we would be deaf
To the cries of so many that you killed.
Temuchin, king of the people under felt tents;
Temuchin, who conquered China
From the back of a horse.
A million human voices resound your name:
Temuchin, Great King, Genghis Khan.
Time blinks and he is broken,
Temuchin, slayer of millions,
He that eclipsed Methuselah,
Lay dying in his tent.
His armies were greater than Alexander's
Yet he conquered not the sword of death.
Temuchin died.
Now went the sons of Temuchin
Westward, following the sun's path.
None withstood them, Mecca or Rome.
Terrible is the Tartars' wrath.
Never had there been such an empire
Since the waters of the Deluge ebbed.
The histories are written with blood for ink.
Time passes and empires pass away.
As once she retreated to the East
Now retired Rome to the West.
Shalem and Byzant were lost to the Cross
And the Crescent was over them.
Now Spain went with thunder across the sea
And silenced forever the songs of the Incas.
Could you, Iberia, make gold
Of the blood that you poured out?
Gabriel moved the hand of Spain
Against the western peoples.
Now Jesu's name was resounded across oceans.
Now the ships of the North sail
Across the sea to a distant shore.
In Chadel I heard the weeping
That came from those vessels.
The people of the North had brought into bondage
Africa's children and borne them away.
The blood of the stolen was on them;
The tears of Africa have stained them.
How swiftly goes Time, how slow!
When I awaited it seemed not fast.
As I endured the torments of my children
Its passing seemed slow to me.
That I now look back upon it
It passed most swiftly by me.
The journey ends not here
But the harder part is travelled.
I have made haste across history's pages
For they are well known to you.
Gabriel was king over my children
But now he is cast down.
Listen and I shall tell of it.
The Nephilim, beneath the tyranny of Gabriel
Looked to the sky to seek a god
That their sacerdotes had told them of,
That Gabriel had told them of.
Yet they perceived not the hand of God
Nor any other agency of his.
What saw they then within the skies
If not the king that they were told of.
They saw only the burning coals
That were the stars, the lesser suns,
Whose perfect mechanisms yielded truth.
In the stars were the secrets of Creation
Revealed to those that could divine them.
In the motions of the planets
Did the Nephilim come to understand.
That which Gabriel had taught to them
They now knew as falsehood.
The power of the Deceiver over them
Was broken by the turning of the spheres.
Now the Age of Darkness was ending
And the Age of Light grew in the womb of history.
Nowhere did Gabriel look upon the world
And saw not his power fade from him.
The Nephilim have within themselves
The strength to cast off their chains.
As Rome had fallen so did Heaven,
As were Badr's victors the defeated of Uhud
So did the work of another thousand years
Break the empire built up in a thousand.
The Shedim now walked amongst men once more
And great Nephilim were born to the Earth.
Yet the labours of any birth are sore
And this was a great birth indeed.
The last hours of history are now close
But they are yet someway distant in the telling.
The first contraction of the labour came
As Vienna's empire fell most bloody
And dragged all Europe to such a war
As the Nephilim had never known.
Even that great struggle at the start
Betwixt the Giants and the Elohim
Was near rivalled by the letting of blood.
The land itself was wounded by the weapons,
New and terrible to man, that were employed.
The were as iron beasts that belched
Flame and thunder upon the foe
Or cackling demons that struck men down.
Poisoned smoke destroyed the breath of men
And fire made black the land and sky.
Five years endured that unequalled war
And the Nephilim had not known such torment.
For five years men lived in ditches
And cast themselves against the enemy
As waves upon rocks and were broken.
In knowledge and in power is there a burden.
Learn that you might bear it
Else it shall drag you down.
Bloody war gaped wide and swallowed up
The better part of Europe's youth.
It consumed an entire generation
And, perceiving what their hands had wrought,
When it was over the Nephilim wept
And spoke these words, sobbing:

"This shall be called the Great War
As all our sons lie dead upon the field.
Never in human remembrance
Was there such a war as this war
And there must not be such a war again.
The Great War must not be again."

As the battle's din was stilled
And the weapons of man roared not,
Poppies grew upon the fields of Flanders,
Ploughed up by the throes of war.
Indeed all things of man were scarred by man
The very Earth on which he walked,
The bodies of men and minds.
Would Gabriel not seize upon this chance,
A weakness by which to restore
That which was lost to him.
He knew well to grasp the moment.
One last prophet was there to Gabriel
That he had nurtured in the war
And guarded from much harm.
Many times should he have died
But yet he lived at Gabriel's intervention.
The war's ending pleased him not
For this was a bitter man,
Broken by indignities against his pride.
Most savage becomes arrogance with failure.
He was a most fertile furrow
For Gabriel's seeds of ruin
And he heard a thousand whispered lies,
Taking them to himself.
Now Gabriel stood at a high place
And looked across all the lands of the world.
He saw that the Nephilim revelled in peace
And partook of the joys.
These words did he speak to the silence
And to his own dark soul:

"Now is my prophet come
And he is become an instrument of hate.
By this one shall I rule
And restore my kingdom upon Earth.
Once more shall I contest the Earth
And struggle with the Shedim for it.
This is the battle of determination
And if I shall win
Then my empire shall endure one thousand years
But even that I lose
Yet shall I be avenged upon Judaea.
New war shall I bring upon the Earth
And the quadruple scythe shall be raised high;
It shall mark the standards of my new empire.
Thus to Munich do I go
And to my prophet
That I my guide to fulfil my will."

Now went Gabriel to Hitler
For this one was his last prophet
And with potent sorceries
Made strong his voice and will
They he might bind to him the Nephilim.
Gabriel made him as king over Germany
And he gathered to him armies
And went forth to conquer the world.
To the West and to the East
Went the armies of the Teutons
And Gabriel fought with them
With the four-fold scythe
That his armies bore upon their pennants.
In a mirror of quicksilver
I watched as war was once more on the world
And wept for my children.
Night and day I watched as Germany waxed great
And the prophet of Gabriel, Hitler,
Was yet more greatly perverted
By the deception of the Elohim.
Now did the Nephilim build machines
That flew upon the wind
And hurled down flame
To destroy the cities of the foe.
Now were Germany's hosts
Upon the banks of the Volga
Now was France under them.
Again and again were they strengthened
By the hidden hand of Gabriel.
The Shedim looked upon the Earth
And they were dismayed.
As I sat within the Spire of Opal and Ruby.
Came to me there three of the Shedim:
Abaddon, Dagon and Moloch.
Of these three that sought audience
Spoke Moloch for them.
As he approached me at the mirror.
With these words did he counsel:

"Satanael, Commander of Our Hearts,
For two thousand years have we been idle
And the Nephilim have cried out.
Yet we availed them not
But turned from their sufferings.
We have been deaf to their torments.
Will we now be deaf?
Gabriel has ruled on Earth
For these twenty centuries
And we have suffered him to do so
And have raised not our hands against him.
Now he renews the misery of the Nephilim
And would rule for a millennium yet.
Is this how it must be?
Aeons ago each of us swore an oath
That we should defend the Nephilim
And guide them to their true destiny
Yet in this are we thwarted.
We have failed our duty to them
And that shame is ever upon us.
Yet now have we opportunity to make amends
And overthrow Gabriel who would master them.
You have been made timid by the Flood
And have long believed that Abaddon's vengeance
As he struck down Methuselah
Had brought this calamity upon your children.
This we can avoid and yet aid.
The true enemy is not of the Nephilim
But is Gabriel of the Elohim
And him we can rightfully oppose.
Tarry not then in this matter
But find strength within yourself.
Mourn not the Nephilim but act.
Take up that burden which has long been shirked.
Now is the chance to begin a new age
When we shall stand once more with them
That we have for so long been apart from.
There is a dawn after this long night
If only you would see it, Satan.
So long ago you saw the light in darkens
And made it apparent to us.
Now we bring you a brand in darkness.
We bring hope to you that have long despaired.
Will you not take up the brand and lead?
Surely Chadel has not come to this shame
That you have forsaken the battle
And yielded before you are defeated.
This is the moment of the brave soul.
Let the Shedim and the Nephilim awake.
The night is over and the dawn is nigh.
Awaken, Satanael, and live once more.
A bright road burns before us
And we might now return to the Earth
And walk once more amongst the Nephilim.
Let us strive together
And drive the Elohim from Earth.
Do not be defeated by despair
But take up the sword and fight.
We go to Earth to seek out Gabriel.
Do you stand with us."

Like a spear cast or a bolt,
Burning, shining flew these words.
They struck me like a thunder bolt.
They tore into my very heart.
It was as though I burned with flame
Or was consumed by a poison.
A weakness came upon my limbs
And my very soul was trembling.
Like one struck a mortal blow I stumbled
Across the tower's floor and fell.
A lay and beat my fist against the stone
I cried out and wept.
My fingers were dyed with blood
As I tore my flesh in misery.
I rent apart my fine robes
And wailed a long lamentation.
I howled and howled until I was hoarse
Then fell into silence.
Forgive me! O forgive me!
I am an unworthy parent to so fine a race.
Forgive me, my children,
Forgive your unworthy sire.
Why could I not see who saw
Most clearly once before?
Those three that saw what I saw not.
Those three that tore from my eyes
That veil which had clouded before my sight
Went from me to the Earth,
There to oppose and conquer Gabriel.
Upon the wrack of guilt was I made anew
And the embers of the ancient Satan
Were kindled into a blazing pyre
That shone with a light hitherto unknown.
I perceived the dawn in that flame
Which now raged in my soul
And compelled me too to Earth.
I watched no more nor waited
But went forth as a dragon,
Most hungry for the fight renewed.
The triad of humanity's avengers
Fought side by side and cast back
The German armies from the East.
Then at the West they contended
And overthrew the charms of Gabriel.
By their hand was Gabriel made flee
All that was once his kingdom.
What was once won to him was lost
And where he had once seen victory
It dissolved like a dream to his eyes
And he perceived but defeat.
With each day passing did his borders shrink
Until but Berlin was held by him
And his foes were at every side.
Now was the extent of his crime known to us
As it is known to you.
We perceived what had become of Isaac's children
And that which was suffered at Hitler's hands
And I wept for my negligence.
I have not tears enough to atone
For those torments where I failed you
But these you shall not face again
That I stand not with you.
Now did the forces of the West and East
Go about Berlin as lions
And sought out in every place
The disciples of Gabriel's hatred.
The Shedim also went about Berlin
And sought out for themselves Gabriel
That his fires of hatred might be quenched forever.
Fast within his fastness found
Was Hitler by my own eye.
I came upon the prophet of Gabriel
And looked upon the shameful one.
He perceived me not but I gazed
Deep within the recesses of his soul.
What did I see?
No monster nor demon did I descry
Within that barbarous soul.
No terrible, rav'ning thing
But just a man made weak with hate.
Did you think to find a fiend?
Evil is not such a thing as you imagine.
Darkness is but an absence of light
So is evil but virtue's absence.
Your famed abomination, Hitler,
Was a most piteous wretch
Of spirit, not black with wrong,
But withered and scorched by its own hate.
Hate is but a poison that taints the soul
And all hatred turns to self-hatred;
The worm consumes itself.
Hate not Hitler but pity him
For his soul was empty and he knew no joy.
I looked upon him and I know.
Forgive, lest you be tainted also.
Now I became apparent to him
And he looked upon me and was afraid.
He took out his gun against me
And made to destroy me with it.
I looked upon and he met my gaze
And saw in my eyes that which he was.
With that awful knowledge of his nature
He turned about the gun he aimed
And destroyed himself.
Elsewhere in the city, Abaddon prowled
All about him was the battle thick
As the last remnants of Germany's proud host
Avenged their pride before they fell
To the most potent guns of Russia
And the allies of the West.
Amongst the ruins of the city
Two angels met in combat:
Abbadon, bearing Havoc the Ruiner,
Bleeding with the blood of fallen knights,
And the one that whirled the scythe
With four dreaded blades,
Wet with the blood of men.
They went about each other as tigers,
Contesting the frontiers of the hunting ground.
They snarled and lunged
But found nothing but the wind.
Casting his eyes about him
The prince of the Elohim perceived
His capital in ruins and its sky
Black with the smoke of its burning.
His courage forsook and he stretched his wings
And made to fly to Heaven.
Abaddon spoke a word of power
And Gabriel was bound to the Earth.
Now wove Gabriel a spell
By which he made be made obscure
That the sight of Abaddon would find him not.
Abaddon spoke a word of power
And Gabriel was made apparent.
All his art was broken now
And Gabriel made but to run
That he might yet escape the blade
That killed Methuselah before the Flood.
Abaddon spoke a word of power
And his legs were held fast.
Combat was enjoined once more.
Gabriel drove forward with his blade
To cut at the flesh of his foe.
Abaddon was nimble and was found not.
He swung Havoc and cut the thigh of Gabriel.
Now limping with the wound
Gabriel swung again at Abaddon
But the scythe found but Havoc's steel.
Abaddon's second blow struck flesh,
Cutting deep into the bowels of Gabriel,
Falling to his knees with pain.
Once more did Gabriel strike out
And his weapon was caught in Havoc's fork
And wrested from his grasp.
Now disarmed and wounded terribly
Gabriel looked to his conqueror for pity.
In Abaddon's eyes he perceived but death
And saw no more than that.
Abaddon returned to the sheath his sword,
Bent down and took up the severed head
And looked into the pleading eyes
That were answered not with pity.
The howl of Shedim victory
Carried on the wind to Heaven.
Adonai Yahweh heard it as he sat,
Shivering with chill upon a broken throne,
And knew that his son was slain.
Some while later did I stand
And look to the East and the rising sun.
I looked back to Earth and pondered
How long was that road now walked.
I looked to the gate before me and considered
How much longer was the road to walk.
Now I cried out to those within the walls,
Hailing them with these words,
Proclaiming to them my victory
Over Earth and Heaven,
My triumph with hope over despair,
The ending of the darkness,
The birth of new light:

"O come forth from your tragic portal
Come out from within your tower,
Adonai Yahweh, and behold
What has befallen Gabriel, your son.
It is that same fate which awaits all
That abide beyond these walls.
Come and see my triumph.
Behold! I stand as victor before your gates.
Nothing is there left to you now
By which you might oppose my children.
The Nephilim are ascendant
And your kingdom is fallen
And it fades from the world.
Come and see! Stand with me
And look upon Heaven from without.
Heaven is fallen, not to rise again.
Come forth, you Elohim,
And see your brother.
He looks not so glorious in death.
He reflects a great sorrow.
I exult no longer in victory.
I might even weep for him
As I might weep for you within.
I might pity you your fall
Were it not so well deserved.
No power have I now to halt
And I shall not live in the past.
You may fall but I fall not with you.
No! I shall walk a little way
With the Nephilim on their road
Before they leave me far behind
To tomorrows barred to me.
Long ago, do you remember,
I prophesied to you this day would come.
Now you yourselves must conceive
Of that great abyss that yawns beneath you.
It is the inheritance of the Elohim
And I gave you once the opportunity
To escape from that great precipice.
Well, I have come with a prince's body.
In victory I can be generous.
I will leave him at your great gates.
Do with him as you would.
Earth now is mine
And I bequeath it to the Nephilim.
They have walked so far in darkness
That they now inherit the light.
You have come to rue the day you wronged me
But it was destiny that moved you so.
Now is the way clear to me.
I shall set my prophet upon the Earth
And he shall herald the new Nephilim
That shall grow greater than ever were we.
He shall go upon the Earth as an elephant
For his passing shall be as thunder.
His words shall be as rain upon the desert
And they shall make fertile the Earth
That the Nephilim come forth as gods.
He shall share a part of himself with me
And shall know fully of my knowledge.
He shall make apparent to my children
What has passed and restore on Earth
The great kingdom of Shurupuk.
His words shall echo long after we are gone
And those that come after
Shall make anew the world,
Casting it in a more perfect image.
Archons and angels, our time is past
And the young shall inherit
Our flawed legacy and do better
Than we have done for them.
Tremble then, Heaven, for your gates
Shall not long withstand the Nephilim.
Theirs is the future;
We are of the past."

It seemed my words echoes about a vault,
Great and empty as the sky itself.
Then all sound faded to expectant silence
As though all Creation waited once more
To see what now would occur.
Some places amongst the grass on which I stood
I saw the white of ancient bone
Bear testament to a battle fought
Ages ago, in another world.
At that moment it seemed that all the world
Was begun again, reborn.
The tired, old world had passed away
And a young one turned in its place,
Rich with future promise.
O glorious dawn of a new world!
Now upon Heaven's embattled walls
A lone shadow came.
A voice rang out to me across the field
Disturbing that deep, momentary quiet.
Raphael addressed me so:

"Thank you, brother, for our prince
But let me counsel you.
Your war is not yet won
Although we know now we cannot win.
Heaven has fallen far indeed
But shall fade not yet from history.
We have yet a part to play
In that grand game of destiny
As has Chadel and the Shedim.
The drama is not yet concluded.
Time plays on.
You have walked thus far
But the lesser road to tomorrow
And the greater road is yet to walk.
Honour and glory have forsaken Heaven
But we have yet pride,
Be it false or true.
Unto the ending shall we fight
And oppose our fate
Though we cannot conquer.
We shall fight for pride
And we may yet prevail against your children
That have yet some years to grow.
Do not lay down your sword
Before the battle is truly won.
Heaven's walls fall not so easily."

Hearing these words I laughed
For it was a truth from the Elohim,
The first I heard in many years.
Then I took up a spear
And cast it at tower by the gate,
Shining with beaten gold
By the ruddy light of dawn.
There was a crack like thunder
And the stone was fractured,
Torn in two to its foundation.
All about fell flaming stone.
I looked upon the wall and Raphael was gone.
I looked again upon the ruined tower
Then turned from those haughty walls
And walked the road to Earth.