The Assumption of the Azoetic Magical Self - Andrew d. Chumbley
By Arte enchant and fascinate the Portals to open, revealing those whom
the Stars veil. Sing out their Passion in the War and Feast that is Thy Self!
Taste ye of the sweet and secret wines of Heaven - the Ocean of Ichor
spilt from the broken idols of Gods and Demi-gods. Carouse ye with my
Satyrs and embrace the Succubi raised from Thine own Desires; swoon
ye in rapture, in the nimbus of fever billowing over the lily field of the
Night. Yet be not overcome! Fall not! Tire not of Pleasure, but seek ye
the Ever-virgin Joys that hide beneath Medusine Veils.
Amidst these blossoms cavort and dance!
1 cap! Your skin aflame in peacock-iridescence!
Your eyes like black fire at the heart of the storm!
For these are the Splendours of the Infinite, wrought in the Images and
Effiges of I
"Speaking for myself, books like Azoetia are mystical love-letters to stangers whom I would not otherwise meet. "ADC