NIGHT-GAUNT LEATHER NUN SUCCUBUS
Out of what Chakra crypts the Succubae to Bat wing fly, I cannot tell,
But every night I see the felines make their planetary sphere way across the abyss; over the desert they to swarm as Night-Mares,
Their obsidian butterfly mistresses, horned Nuns, so sensuous, with membranous leathery wings,
They come in Night-gaunt legions on the North wind’s swell over Rome’s temples, remembering Diana-Lucifera,
With obscene caresses, which titillates of lustful stroking,
Snatching me off on monstrous voyaging,
Travelling through their moist vaginal star barrelled Tarot hallways,
To other worlds hidden deep within their pyramidal harem of seven fold hierarchy.
Over the sacrificial jagged peaks of Thuk they to sweep predatory,
I heedless, of all their crucified groans they to make, while painting themselves menstrual red of bloodshed,
And down towards the nether pits of our carnal Coitus Pactum union, they take me,
Where the brazen harlots then to gather around my erect brazen serpent, to feast upon its venom, of all consuming worship.
But ho! If only they would tell more of their delightful Sabbat.
Alas, I to awaken too soon, until next Night-Mare to ride of Ouroboros round!
Freely adapted from Fungi from Yuggoth & Other Poems by H.P. Lovecraft whose severely afflicted navel chakra brought about his eventual demise.
Although, had he otherwise transformed his Bedroom-Invading Nightgaunts via the symbolic alchemy of Tantra to become as ‘Anima’ emanation (Succubi) Succubae, his leaden Ouroboros of a torc would have been transmuted into gold.
Alas, the sexual impulse was Lovecraft’s true horror due to his Puritan tastes, which to have made women faceless.
Look to Lovecraft’s Salem to know the fascist truth of its deified ‘Animus’ made as God/Devil, where closeted Puritan’s slaughtered many a native, whose ‘love’ had no ‘craft’ when to have burnt Witches at the stake because of their Craft.