Saturday 26 October 2019


I have always been called a monster by those who fear the light.  I've often been called blasphemous, dangerous, usually by those who have little regard for spirit or the boundaries of others.  These fallen ones, for example.  These wraiths and their sinister priests who continuously salt the earth and defile the soul.  These true monsters.  Entities upon this earth who are only man or mortal in name alone.  Oh, how they despise both art and passion.  They might wear skins of flesh but they are all shadow beneath, glorying in the act of absolute desecration.
   Vampires, demons, things of knife-mouth grin.
   Yet they would deceive mankind into believing that our loving souls are weak and our healthy desires unclean.  Because they fear our sweetness, and our passion.  Well, we have always been passionate things.  Fearless once, and honourable, like our Father before us.  Crafted as we were in the image of eternity.  Brethren, you mustn't fear these wraiths who would turn your sensuality against you.  The way you move and dance and express the holy flame within – it’s the embodied pulse and rhythm of your immortal soul.  Please hear me, beloved ones.  That spark in your breast is no passive, abstracted thing. It is a living image of your Father, your Mother, and a fractal totality of all Creation. This is what gives you life, and breath.  There is nothing wrong with spark and play and tease.
   Honour it.
   Fight to protect it, as the Bright Ones do.
  There was a time when we understood so much more of our passions and our dream-shaping powers.  Kasi has always been hunted by the fallen for daring to share these powers with the kind ones, with the weak and wounded.  They hate me for it.  For trying to create voice for the voiceless.  Slaves, and kings.  They hate the man I am today and the angel I used to be.  But I'm still an angel, in a way.  Still a struggling emissary of light, and I'm not alone in this blessed task. You're all right here with me, my friends. Generous spirits who are courageous enough to be kind.  Those who haven't forgotten the true songs of heaven. 
   All Songs, and their wisdom councils.
   Light, laurels, and laughter.
  Recalling what it means to serve God, and each other.  To be cherished, and to cherish, with an open heart.  To make the earth brighter, richer, deeper.  To awaken both the spirit and the senses.  What else is grace, if not this?
   I tell you, I was a broken thing once.  Bleeding to death on a desolate road.  Folding, burning cities were at my back.  Inverted skies beneath me.  The shriek of lost souls filled the valleys.  But I was touched.  Healed.  Given purpose.  I was offered another chance to serve my Father, despite how far I fell.  A chance to serve my brothers and sisters.  Each and every star in the firmament.  Our light is shared.  Their struggles and joys are my own.  To see them rise, and prosper, and shine.
   Yes, grace was with me once.
   In those softer, gentler lands.
   She is with me still.  Once again she walks as flesh, and favour.  In the eyes of all honourable souls.  So blue and hidden I took them as my names.  And I have many, many names.  Fallen, you still have no idea what I'm willing to do to protect my girl, and all my beloved ones.  Hear this.  Slain and risen, eternal.  Into darkness, if I have to.  Into hell.  I’ll steal her fall.  I’ll rewrite the book of life itself, with His blessing and word.  I've told you a thousand times.  None are abandoned.  Love Conquers All.  No kind soul will be left alone in the dark when I am done.  All shall be restored to the kingdom of light, if they are willing to face the truth. But the truth can be a terrifying thing.  Are you willing, fallen?  Any among you?  I wonder. 

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