The Son of the Devil
rose, dark and grim
from all the worlds troubles.
Conceived in the secret
out of the darkness
of the human heart.
A deform child of Light,
thrown into the abyss
to die outside the mist
of fantasy.

With pain and sorrow.
Slowly he linger,
gathering together
from the emptiness
of the heart a primal
power locked in the womb,
the home of the dead.
He search for a tomb.
A tomb with the heads
of all the lowly creatures
killed by Fate.

Light flicker, the mist retreated.
Enter the Son of the Devil
as Luna and Helios greeted each other.
Long parted lovers of a celestial war.
Cosmic tragedy, untold trilogy,
a forbidden story
mothers do not tell their children
and so becalm a divine mystery.

Upon this world he enter
to avenge the death
of the ugly creatures
murdered by Light's anger
over their imperfect features.
A sin Light did not admit.
A sin she did not commit.
They die at birth,
coldness in their hearts,
lifeless from the start,
the demons without a name.

The Son of the Devil stand
on man's godly temple.
Tears falling unto the floor.
Light did not murder
all the lowly creatures
the abysmal womb stored.
Death was their nature.
Darkness is their home.
Their bed is their tomb.
Lifeless they came,
children without a name.

Spare all the struggle.
The Son of the Devil,
return to the dark
to live at the bottom
of the human heart.
To brood in lost and sorrow
over quarrels of honor and pride.
In that lonely, only crucible
known to man and devil
since time immemorial.
Used by witches and alchemists.

To create out of sorrow
a joy that will last beyond tomorrow.
Immortality they search,
that grand illusion of mankind;
to live like angels in the sky,
to rise above the world,
soaring with the wind
and have no shadows follow them,
as if they were spirits not man.

Upon the world a man is born.
Common in name and common
in family ancestry.
He takes a wife.
Live all his life on a farm.
Never travel beyond
what his eyes can see.
Have no need other than
to feed and clothe his family.
On the land he lived out his destiny.
Death took him in the winter.
The earth welcome him in December.

In the dark the man awoke.
A voice ask him the name of God.
Thus he spoke,
"There is no God within a dream.
"There is no name within a dream."
A light is seen.
The man is leaving.
The Son of the Devil is lost
forever in chaos,
like Piscis in the Heavenly Sea
or a demon in God's dream.
Lost, all alone,
one and only occupant
in the primal womb.

An angel is born in Heaven,
rising out of the Golden Flower
hidden in the center of the garden
where all life spring.
That eternal land
where angels and devils,
beasts and man all lived
as a universal clan.
This land the angels inherited
after the universal war ended,
along with it immortality and peace,
so they sing, night and day,
always so gay.

When an angel is born
a name is given.
In the ancient book of immortality
it is written; The world must commit to memory
this holy name.
Let is not sink into obscurity
like all the lowly creatures
unaccounted for throughout the centuries.
Who counts their numbers?
Who know their name?
Only the devil lost in his dreams.

So this creature of nature, ask himself.
For there was no one but him.
Standing in the sea,
listening to the breeze,
hoping to catch distant words
spoken or carry by the wind.
Hoping there may be others like him
whose heart attune to his
and so contemplate the same thing
a wholeness that he miss.

But there is no one
who understand the world
on one hand and the dark
outside the realm of man.
He is alone
like the Son of the Devil.
Lost in the deep, dark chaos.
Born for no reason at all.
Born for no purpose.
And so lost,
not knowing where to go
or what to do.

There came a shadow
over the ocean.
A voice sat the waves
in motion;
"We are lost in each others dream."
Said the Dark to the Son the Phantasma,
whose heart was startle
but his eyes sparkle with joy
for a word was spoken
first since he was awoken
from nothingness.
Now someone has spoken.

And the heart is counting.
The suspense is mounting.
And someone is coming,
coming from the lonely crucible,
from the lonely crucible,
hidden interval between night and day,
the one and only way
from then 'til now
when we were not yet man
and did not know
that death was our goal.

Here. before me, there she is,
a precious darling in the mist.
Come give her a kiss.
Tell her that you miss her.
Let her grow
and you'll let the world know.
The truth is coming.
Chaos is leaving.

Do not mistake
affinite sympathy for love.
There is no intimacy in it.
It is a feeling
grown out of similarity,
of recognition
of each other's feelings.
I know that you are afraid again.
Not knowing what to do.
Here you should do nothing.
Let Fate take its course.
Respect what you can not control.

I know, I know,
you are fearful.
But hold on to what you've got.
I know it's not alot.
If you make it through this,
Sarah, will give you a kiss
and Sarah I know you miss.
But if you do not want
her kiss then I know
you'll grow old
with no one to hold.

There you see her now,
growing out of the ground.
That holy flower on the mound.
Fortify it, carve a step to it.
Hide it from others.
Remember what the sages say,
"Hide the light in the dark."
Take this to heart.
Listen carefully,
learn to see the light
hidden in the deep, dark chaos.

Here is the truth,
the woman in your dreams,
the Light and the golden flower
are all the same.

-I see her now.
She loves me.
What Sarah took
I have again.
What was lost
emerge as a hidden dream
in everyday world.
I have her now
as she well knows.
Here ends that long road
from Sarah's house;
the gates of fantasy.

She is the prophecy
during the quarrels
over honor and pride,
three thousand years ago,
outside the gate of Fantasy.
You lost and drowned yourself
in contemplation.
But you rose once again
from the ocean
as the voice set the waves
in motion
and called out from behind you,
and lead you away
from the dark hands of death.

That solitary road
marked with your tears,
leading from the sea,
has been walked on
long before you came forth
from you non-existent home,
that place far, far away,
hidden tightly
between night and day.

So dark, you can not see.
So narrow, you can not squeeze
back into.
Then she came upon you,
lost, floating aimlessly
in the depths of the sea.
Lost and disoriented
over the notion of your origin.
She called out to you,
your heart was startled
but your eyes sparkle
and look all around.

There was no one to be found.
But you didn't die that day.
You walked away
from the sea
and dragged yourself
wearily down that road
treaded on by lovers
throughout the centuries,
until before you was Nikky.

And you follow her
into a temple of gold
where you saw,
the Son of the Devil crying,
tears falling unto the floor.