He wears the pure white gown of the priest, and tightly grips the fragile chalice of ritual.
Eyes shut tight, in concentration, on his lips the ancient words of invocation.
In his mind, his spirit walks a different world
... far from the world of the physical.
And the memories of the brutal slaying on the altar have left him now ... necessity
The sworn allegiance demands the sacrifice of the blue eyed blonde haired priest-girl
An outward display ... to give the power...
... to provide the doorway through which he steps.
But, he keeps silent, he knows more
... much more than the elders, those fools who demand.
For he knows the power of projection comes from within him
... and not as a result of the cull...
In private places he opposes the sacrifices
... and voices those words to the chosen few
He rejects the new mandates which demand the killing of the pure blood race ...
Beads of sweat ... fall from his brow
... for he too could become victim.
If his true heritage were known ... for he too is of the pure blood line ...
Hybrid spawn between earth bound man and stellar visitor - the gods the elders say
He is scornful in those precious places ... he rejects the new religion
... favouring the one of old
Without the new measures and public acts to amaze and mystify
... but he stays silent.
And permits the killings before his journeys into the over soul
... in search of what ...?
He does not yet know ... but he is close to discovery
... first he must unravel the glyphs of power
The ancient language given in teachings to be quoted in ritual ...
He must overcome the dreams and the visitations
... the urges of the voice of the air to succumb
He must master his fear of the shadows
... the sense that evil pervades in those cool places
He must prevent his mind’s eye from seeing lizard faces appear on the faces of the elders ...
For there is so much he still does not know
... and so much they too don’t know about he ...
Ahead ... as spirit, light, thought ... he spies the pathway beyond the incantation
The intended direction the ancient chanted mantra now leads him,
Powerless as a breath of air, as an essence of smoke he floats towards a silver mountainside
Catching sight of the glimmering waters below him, he is able to stop ...
He thus brings to a halt the momentum, and overcomes the compulsion of the thoughts,
The growing murmur of voices which he has never sensed before ...
Feeling threatened ... feeling pitched and pulled
... overtaken by an unknown identity,
He incants words of power of his own
... ones he found etched in stone in a secret place
Words which aid him in binding an impenetrable wall of crystal glass around him
Within that translucent cloak he now stands ... and begins the summoning of form
The idea of a body pervades around him, and the ‘thought form’ matrix of a man begins ...
With wings ... because it suits him to glide into the moonlight ahead of him ...
He has plenty of energy in reserve to undertake the task set by his mysterious masters ...
Before then he has a journey to make of his own ... one of much more importance
One that Melchisidek know will prove to him once and for all the existence of an elder race
A civilisation which existed long before their own
... contrary to anything the masters say ...
With ease he assumes complete control then of his thinking and quotes the ancient words
In the form and the expression laid out on the stone tablets he found in the cave
Immediately ... the sea and the cliffs are gone ... and he is transported elsewhere ...
On an expanse of golden sand he lies naked ... warm, gentle waters lap against his form
Gazing down, he is female and has long tumbling golden hair ...
Towards the sun he gazes and notes a slightly red orange hue ...
He stands and turns, seeing behind him two mighty stone towers towering above him
Towards him approaches a floating incandescent orb ... from the orb comes a murmur
Many, many voices all different but the telepathy of one ... the race he seeks
He knows this simply then and intuitively, reaching out to combine and understand
Sharing in that moment all the ancestral thoughts of their over-soul .....
Knowing then they had no need for name or separate identity
... all attuned to a oneness like no other
Wandering the orb of life to understand nature and prepare for the dark times to come
When they knew natural progression demanded separation .... borne out of curiosity
The naivety of their thoughts overcoming him,
they had no comprehension of what was to come
Their concept of ‘darkness’ being clouds hiding the sun,
his interpretation of ‘evil’ lost to them ....
Later, after the painful exfoliation from them
... he gazes once more at the form created by his mind ...
The ‘male’ depository which housed all the essence of the one ....
Their intention clear in his mind ... the re-enactment of the ancient ritual
... laid out in their records
The invocation of separation to induce their next evolutionary cycle
... thought form of man and woman
In the act of godlike union ... to sire the next generation
.... as it was written so it was done without sin ...
The memory of the golden sands fading then for Melchisidek
... returning then to the cliffs
The storm wind blowing through his form
... the moon gone, hidden now by clouds
The sea lost to the shadows ... the protection gone
... the compelling presence stronger now than he
Overcoming him ... recognising him .... realising the threat
... the knowledge he has within ...
Melchisidek aware then of a stone knife raised above his physical form, like a dream
Somewhere in his mind the horror of the crime
... his blood spilt, without sensation of pain
His pure white robes of priesthood stained by his own blood
... his form laid on the anvil ...
And the evil deed of the removal of his beating heart
... the ritual forever defiled ....
The memory of the overcoming of the priesthood
... to the realm of shadows lost in the annals of time
For Melchisidek there could be no returning to that world of man
... trapped was he in ritual
In invocation ... battling then with the force of shadow to remain free of corruption ...
Remembering the ancient words
... like a protective cloak the shield returned ...
Protecting he ... condemning he to wanderer between the worlds ...
An eternal voice then on the wind
... in the minds of mages through the history of man
A conscience for the good and the white ... protector of the truth and guide
Revealer of the ancient ways ... denouncer of the shadow and its blood thirsty ways ...
Coming again to the physical in times of dire need ......
In that moment of freedom, the doorway to the worlds swung open wide,
Melchisidek seeing then the truth and the intention of the ancient glyphs
Understanding shining bright like the first light of the sun
Smiling then ... he separated into infinite thoughts
... and pierced the membranes of all life
Providing all with the wisdom of that ancient race ... the founder race of man
... the kindly ones
And thus for as long as the invocation prevailed he would survive as guide ...
Until the time came the power abated and he could return back to whence he came
Choosing once more to return to teach of Atlantis and the coming of the voice of shadows
Coming to earth in an age blighted by the ghouls and demons ... formless perversions ...
Those dark ones which arrive first as voices in dreams and in shadowy places
... tempting men to provide blood
To permit the shadows to adopt forms to provide weakly man with power and greed and lust
Destroying then all memory of past, rebuilding history to suit their sickly needs ....
O’ man I have returned .... and I see the shadow has ye again ......
Friday, 9 January 2004
