Versia mya-imere octus: a canon recountenance on divine incipience. Translated from original lyrrhan glyphs by Octedact scribes of the 241th lapse.
Who am I? Whose visions read I?
I am sister to two, lover to one, dreamer to none but nothingness; thus goes my torrentine whorl of all:
to cometh as trinity of three triangles, their visages swarthy in
absence of prime luster. These firsthold lessers are stasis of being,
yet their somatic sojourn curt – the lenght of visit of I. Kin of three
is none at all but same and separate, enemy and paramour, the premolded
weave of tribulation. Incestuous articulation calls for two, not three,
thus third is for havoc: I to construe. Three of eventual hardship are
we, we Mya.
I am to be blithe again, extant, thus goes my sweven behedging:
Bosom of one and same and of voice of me; thus is the verse INNER SHELL. First borne Mya Golos is OUTER SHELL, the none, for his is ELUREN
and what is beyond even an eventuality verse, and of his impossible
existence embers of prime seed spark and crackle. A shield Empyrean
made I of endowed credence, a small rein of barrier, but existant.
Median borne Mya Magh is the thrust of Empyrean, his lies to I
numerous, a reaver dark-sun of all verses. Lastborn Mya Nubilca is she
who refects, importunist of deoist matters, the confiding fountain: I.
I am goddess, given soveraigne regalia of volition, thus goes my genesis for this, my only perigon verse:
Twin axles of Deo, MYAHUD and MIRKHUD
day and mirk to dictate; root-life of Deo, to life bring in ovaries
trifle, of you to Deo flourish through all lapses. Diverse, prime seed!
For you are of divine difference: the antithesis of I. In INNER SHELL
I am immutable, eternal, for verses I hum anew. End is tendance-mirage
of I. Beflayed loave begins anew, but with invasive awareness of source
– order to chaos with each turn in clarion. For all, say I: Remember I
until the verse of even OUTER SHELL is sung.
mya-imere octus: a canon recountenance on perpetual motion of a divine
resolution. Translated from original lyrrhan glyphs by Octedact scribes
of the 241th lapse.
What is will? What are wishes?
I am heiress to a great gift, unsullied by the wayward fate of I, thus goes my manifold legacy:
sapling, the prime seed, I envisage and from my last light: a
pyritohedrous convoluted infeasillion, these burgeonings draw milk.
With verdant rood, saponary dew and premediated fond nurture, erstwhile
I creates convection of root-life, each step higher, closer to I,
though never the image of, by decree of divine difference. Putrefaction
of the seed brings harvest; to wither is not to vanish, not under such
swatch of sheltering impression.
I am mortal, scathed with the hoarfrost of intimacy, thus goes my hour darkest:
for but a fleeting moment, and submerged within yourself have you come,
shattered by mirrors reflecting the eternal trinity; the brother in
between the two who may never coalesce is the dark-sun of celestial
inertia, the barrier, the seeping one. Were he aware of what sway he
commands, the sister would never even be. Whatever I sing can my
brother un-sing, but not I - not wholly. The relief of nothingness may
come for me, but never for FLUX, who dons my desert-veil and sings the song of I.
I am of many forms, thus goes my recognition for mimetic might:
retaliation of a righteous spirit, Mya Magh comes subject to inclement
reprisal. From one Prime Seed, these verses are made many:
representations of eachother in shape and form, in all fields but not
in I, the FLUX. For I, who remembers, a similar verse is made anew, and thus INNER SHELL is made immortal. Know then that the FLUX are many, and as Deo, manifest as infeasillions. Fear not the FLUX who is not I, though one you cannot meet in the placid terras of INNER SHELL, not in this vane of bekotenage.
writing deals with the semiotic and esoteric aspects of a religious
scripture. It can be difficult to interpret, but there is a definite
sense to it, inside it's own universe. I'd be interested in hearing
your take on it if you are able to decipher it.
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