nigredo
POWERΣ 249 / 642
“I fly to the warmth.
The Black Sun calls.
The light is real.”
Flies toward the false sun.
Wings of Black Sun shadow.
Eyes fixed on the warmth.
Flight endless in orbit.
It flies to the Black Sun.
It believes the warmth is the Eclipse.
It is not.
Winged Black is the moon-scorched tragedy of aspiration.
It flies to the lie.
Sealed form. No further transmutation.
Winged Black is the illusion of flight.
It flies to the false sun.
It burns in the false light.
It is the winged that refused the violet sky.
Moon-ScorchedHomunculusBlack Sun Meditationthe processionlet the world burn