Excerpt from The Book of Sa-Heti (by J. Michaud)

Section 2 – Spiritual Heritage

19 — The Chapter of the Rosy Light

A-UM !

12. And Chrishna, the Bringer of Light, spoke unto his Disciples, saying the ancient Precepts over again, as he had spoken them in previous Incarnations, aeons and aeons of ages ago on earth; in times long lost within the dark oblivion of the far, dim past.

13. ‘Have Faith, be it even a little faith, for this will save thee from many calamities and free thee from all fear.

14. ‘This is a great and simple Law: a Law unto the faithful; for men who trust in worldly aid live in complexity, having manifold intricate laws, which are like shifting sands that suck the wanderer who trusts in their solidity unto perdition.

15. ‘For such laws are like unto the souls that made them, whose only foundation is the nether world.

16. ‘Such have no faith, no trust; first, because they judge all other men by the faultiness of their own foundations, and secondly because all their laws consist of contradictions, twisted by rogues for the destruction of fools, who place in them their foolish worldly trust, and give credence to their makers and expounders.

17. ‘Have only faith in God and in the Lords of Life, whose words are Truth, whose Laws are just and sure, unchangeable and not to be distorted by the arts of devils’ ingenuity; for based they are upon the adamantine surety of God’s own Mercy and His Justice, which can no more be deviated by slick excuse and sly prevarication than an ant can overturn a mighty Alp.

18. ‘Therefore, in no man place thy trust, for he is powerless to aid thee by himself, or lead thee to the Safety of Light and Truth:

19. ‘For all men are but instruments, blind tools, who act upon the inspiration (quite unknown to them) which comes from God….or from the Serpent; and wise is he who knows the veritable source of ignorant man’s actions.

20. ‘The man who thinks he does thee well may be thine executioner.

21. ‘The man who hateth thee, can, mayhap, be just the very tool which opens up the door which leads unto the Path of thy Salvation.

22. ‘And only God can separate the false and the true and know the hidden purpose and the spring of all men’s slightest actions.

23. ‘Distrust the man who spurs thee on to do good works to reap the fruits of good deeds done;

24. ‘Who prophesies great wealth and power if thou do thus and thus, and so and so;

25. ‘Who prates to thee of endless lives on earth in utter bliss, if thou abound in charity and temple rites, of wealth and power, which (he says) is God’s reward for those who prop the State and Constitution;

26. ‘Who grants thee merit, bountiful, in future times for present works of ‘faith’, according to his precepts;

27. ‘Who promises to teach thee full control of all the elements and demon forces: that thou mayest rule the earth and all that’s on it and within, by means of magic rituals.

28. ‘For know that they who promise this, or who desire vast wealth and power, are lax of soul and mind, forsaken by the Father for their lies and greed, and handed over to the lower ones, to live and die in spiritual destitution.

29. ‘The man who puts his trust and faith in other men is lost for sure, and when he seeks the help of God at last, it is too late, for God will send him to the men in whom he placed that trust and faith, for such is the Law, in Truth and Justice.

30. ‘Be free of all the laws laid down by men: but do not act against them.

31. ‘Be free of all the rituals and priests: but let who will obey them.

32. ‘Be free of that self-righteousness which calculates its profits due when all its devilments are done: for the Serpent only will take profit in the end.

33. ‘Thou! Go forth when the time of thy Mission arrives; do right; ask not, and thou shalt not want.

34. ‘Be right deeds themselves thy reward, and not their fruits: for by acting rightly thou doest God’s own work at His behest, and not thine own.

35. ‘The fruit of all good deeds be God’s, not Man’s.

36. ‘Go forth, then, and act; dream not in self-pitying sloth, but labour mightily.

37. ‘Right acts must be thy piety, not mumbled prayers at the holy shrine; for this is the excuse of sluggards, to sit and pray instead of being up and doing.

38. ‘Plan not what thou shalt do ‘tomorrow’, nor prate about the work of later days: but do it NOW.

39. ‘Cast Self aside, condemning gain and merit.

40. ‘Be poised and calm in good and evil times; for those who in this way show God their love and trust will reach the Peace, unknown to men whose love and faith are in the world, instead of in the Father.

41. ‘Let the Soul be thy Heaven, counselling the Mind with Wisdom, and scorn all those who practise virtue in hope of reward.

42. ‘For this is pure devotion and attunement with the Higher Worlds, and the Soul of God, and those who dwell within his Radiance.

43. ‘And cast aside good deeds and bad alike, following the Call of the Inner Voice, though thou hearest not its utterance with outward ears.

44. ‘By peaceful meditation (whilst thou workest) shall Light and Truth fulfil thy Self, shaking off the tangled cords of wrongful teachings, which guide the ignorant, alone.

45. ‘And thus, freed from man-made laws, doctrinal oracles, and priestly lore and dogma, and love of gain and fortune,

46. ‘Safe shalt thou dwell in life, quite sure within, untroubled by the world of men and their opinions, until the Day when Greater Life begins in Greater Light, in Bliss—and Peace—and Beauty’.

Read more at: http://www.occult-mysteries.org/chrishna-jeseus-index.html

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Freedom is only a word, but so is Love

Meaningless.
Obsolete.
Stuck in a
memory
Dancing doll,
stop your feet
The song’s long
gone, you see

Irredeemable
Lost in time
A nostalgia
so sublime
Under a red sky
that bled in rhyme
Binding souls
and stopping time

Irrelevant,
it haunts me
in flashes
that taunt me
I am confused
and lonely
The past seems
now so phony

Blitzed sunrises
and stormy nights
In fragments
of darkness and light
They haunt me,
leave me in a fright
And I can’t remember
what you didn’t say that night.

But, devour me
Swallow me whole
Tell me your secrets,
then tell me more
I’ll be your blood
You be my soul
Join me in enlightenment
Free me from this cold

Alas, it’s time
the truth must be set free
I love you, it’s true
But you don’t love me
And love’s only a word
What does it know of how things feel
No, love is overrated
Still, you don’t love me

True Freedom is
its own prison indeed
You’re always a captive
of the things that you need
And wanderers are free too
as long as they have nowhere to be
Ah, perhaps only the lost
can ever truly be free…

Always

It isn’t always the memories
that undo you late at night
Sometimes it’s only a feeling,
an absence of some near-divine light
Sometimes it is a number plate,
when the numbers add up to a name
Or a person stands up to be who you were,
and you avert your eyes in shame

It’s knowing that you’re growing
and that things must be left behind
That you are only a stranger
lost somewhere in the threads of time
And it’s paying the cost of life
in memories not yet made
It’s holding on to the hope
that some things can still be saved

For in the depths of something unstoppable
always tugging at my soul
You were the first hand to grab mine
and burn through all the cold
And I know you haven’t cared
for quite a long long time
But I’ll never forget that moment
when I first learned that I was still alive

And if I could have just one thing,
I don’t know if it would be you
But I remember the shade of your eyes
better than you ever could
It’s because I’ve seen the light in them
And it’s a light I can’t unsee
So, if it comes to a choice between us,
even my darkness could never choose me.

Molten

I cannot hold you in my hands anymore
Flowing out of my veins, like lava in flames
Shining like an intense ocean of red and gold
if I choose to burn, is it not only I who is to blame?

Though sometimes I still dream of that very first time
That my ice-cold soul felt the burn of your skin
Around your fingers, you wrapped my reeling mind
Leaving my edges on steam, and my core, molten.

And you should know I’ve been melting ever since
First in cracks that trickled, then in streams that screamed
And I wonder if you ever truly were the lost prince
Or simply a lord from some nightmarish tale I once dreamed.

My love, how can I follow you any further into this night?
When I know not the way through the depths of your mind
I set out following the treacherous moon and its light
Only to leave myself somewhere too far behind.

And now the embers falling from my skin
from all the places we have touched
are all I have to light my way of sin
Not enough, but always too much

I like to believe I’ll catch up with you sometime
Before going up in flames, or melting out of sight
And if being too weak to help you was my only crime
Then I hope at least my pyre provides you with light.

 

The Edge of Chance is the Edge of Destiny

Over the last one year, I’ve been at the edge so often, it doesn’t even thrill me anymore. What edge, you ask? The edge of everything, I say. Surely that’s too vague. But, I do mean it. The edge of life, of sanity, of too much pride and none at all. The edge of being lost forever, of oblivion, of more terrible things. heh. Dramatic as always..

But, lost the thrill, you may ask, how? And more importantly, then why am I still here? Ah, that’s the funny part, you see. I burned all my bridges behind me. One after another. And, I never realized how the further you got from home, the harder it became to find some place safe. But, I know many secrets. And, the biggest one is that you can’t be safe. Not as long as you’re alive.

You can only be lucky.

Maybe that’s the truth about fate too. It applies only to the past, and that’s because the so-called fated are only people who were really lucky.

*laughs* Suddenly God seems so much more reasonable. Anyone would when we’re talking about Lady Luck. Impartial even in her partiality.

I used to be someone else. Someone more. But, in trying to arrive at the heart of any and every matter, to the truth of things, I fear, somehow I’ve gotten rid of too much. And, now, all I have waiting for me is the unbearable lightness of being.

How does any of this matter?

Surely, it doesn’t. Then, why, why, why won’t I back off before I fall off the edge of this planet entirely?

Oh. Wait. That *is* why.

*laughs*

Sometimes, life confuses the hell out of me.

…I would wish that it confuse me out of Hell too, but wishes are the only thing I mistrust more than promises. Because the worst they can do is always the least you can give them – belief. Things that grow darker fueled even by the light are the things you should be afraid of.

And, lastly, because I feel like giving advice even though it’s really funny since I never take my own: Get what you want. No matter what anyone tells you. That way, even if you don’t get it, you’ll be a better person for trying. and, you won’t regret it. Not half as much as you would regret never trying at all. Trust me.*

Peace out!

P.S. On a side note, control over yourself and circumstances, i.e. will and power, are the only two ways you can defend yourself against luck. Which explains all the hunger for power. [Seems humans find that easier than getting a grip on themselves] But, Luck gives with the same hand that she uses to take things away. And, if you protect yourself from her reach, you risk losing more than you gained, which, ironically, is all about Luck.

* Disclaimer: Exceptions maketh the rule!

Haters gonna Hate

Well, when they tried to reach her,
she slipped right out of his grasp
and smiling sweetly at his frown,
she shattered like china glass

And then there were a hundred,
but he couldn’t find the one
A hundred laughing voices,
shining brightly in the sun

Fear is only a side-product,
Hope is what causes all human pain
And a hundred pieces of glittering glass
know better than to try again
I guess that’s why they’re laughing
but I really wouldn’t have a clue
If I can’t keep myself together,
what right have I to ask it of you?
It’s only your pedestal
that I wish we’d managed to save
And as it sinks into the sea,
I mourn its distant watery grave.
I meant what I said, you cruel fool
If you’d only stop to see
The dagger you’re so worried about?
You’ve only forgotten it in me.
Well, this dusty shade of rust
may be all that saves me from the gray,
yet, if  we were to meet again
there’s nothing I’d have to say
And even this rant is redundant
’cause it’s watered down with contempt
If all of you are all the same
Why bother to attempt?

Perhaps, in the end, it must be said
There’s no real conspiracy to this scheme
for stranger things have happened,
yes, life is surely, but, a dream.

And I shall live it my way,
I’m not dramatic, just intense
At least I don’t deviate from my own code,
And I’m friends with my conscience.