╪ : : Bowling for Baphomet : : ╪ 

 This piece was written in response and in solidarity to the recent events regarding the Satanic Temple and their campaign to build a monument at the Oklahoma State Capitol. 

 You could find information regarding their campaign and their organization here - 

www.indiegogo.com/projects/put-a-satanic-monument-at-ok-capitol 

 ╪ Half of the money donated for the purchase of this track will be donated to The Satanic Temple and their efforts to raise religious/spiritual awareness/tolerance. ╪ 

 I am not directly affiliated with the Satanic Temple - my views and expressions in no way reflect those of the organization. However, I stand by them in their choice to bring this particular battle into national focus. 


 Ave Satanas.
 

╪ : : Lyrics : : ╪ 

 Bowling for Baphomet 

 You see, I’m bowling for Baphomet, 
 steadily dancing up to the State Capitol. 
 But the Holy Ghost of Christmas past blocks the way though, 
 killing me with concrete commandments; 
 and I’m beaten blue and bloody, 
 out of breath, 
 stoned to death by your statues and your statutes; 
 by your Old Testament legislation, kleptocratic theocracy, bible-belt disciplinary action… 
Your... Fox News television… 

By the way, Atheists and Satanists are not the same fucking thing, you idiot. Truth is, 
 you’re a slave through and through – 
and no amount of death threats is ever going to change that - simple fact. 

 Regardless, 
 I’m climbing up the steps to my Freedom, whether you like it or not, 
 and I’m going to Ragna-rock the 1st Amendment till the sun’s covered in sackcloth. 
 And when I finally get to my monument, 
 It’s going to be momentous, 
 a Witch’s Sabbath debacle of historic proportions… 

But let me rest for a second on my scapegoat friend’s lap 
 You see, the Adversary and I go way back. 
 Wherever his horns grow, 
 I go. 
 Next stop Heaven – 
As above, 
 So below. 

 So I’m bowling for Baphomet, 
 trolling the separation of Church and State proudly. 
 Till I secularize every school, 
 every capitol, 
 and every courthouse in this country. 

 You might call me evangelical, 
 maybe even fundamentalist, 
 But my highest religious conviction, 
 rests in my belief in the Self, and Humanity; 
 and I’d do anything I could to protect that. 
 To you, that’s the worst profanity. 

 Now I’ve been waiting for you to stop pussyfooting around your stone tablet 
 and begin owning your argument. 
 Please translate your ‘faith-based’ euphemisms. 
 What you really want to say is 
 that we live in a God-fearing nation, 
 that every natural catastrophe is God’s way of punishing us for marriage equality, 
 that God hates us because we’ve use the Free Will he generously provided 
 to disbelieve and challenge his existence. 

 Your beliefs alone may not necessarily harm others; 
 however, some of you are in positions of power, 
 some of you control legislation, 
 have influence over the education of our children, 
 and even decide who we go to war with… 
This is a problem – 
You are an obstacle and the enemy of our evolution as a species. 

 So I’ll take the initiative and skip right through the ambiguities. 
 To you, I say this – 

I’m a non-believer. I’m an anti-theist. 
 I’m a wicked witch, and I’m a Satanist. 
 I am a heretic, I’m a heathen. 
 I’m a [please insert here everything you hate]. 

 I bowl for Baphomet. 
 Ave Satanas. Hail Satan. 



 Copyright 2014 by Shea Bilé. 

 All Rights Reserved.
 

╪ : : Track | Credits : : ╪ 


 Written and performed by Shea Bilé 
 : ~ 
 Music by Shea Bilé, Nathan Gordon, and Ian Flux; and is an excerpt from "Ashes of Balance" form the soon-to-be-released album "Tzimtzum". 

 ╪ 

 Track Cover Design and Logo by J Decker - jdecker.net 

Bowling for Baphomet

:╪:About:╪: 

 Inspired by the litany of "Die Eletrischen Vospiele", as written by Anton Szandor Lavey. An invocation of the Hounds of the Barrier, the beasts that guard the gates beyond the 3rd dimension - an effort to transcend the threshold to the hereafter. A sacred journey down the crooked path and a proclamation of empowerment.
 

:╪:Lyrics:╪: 

 Let the fires of a shattered sun condense the twilight 
 and unfold the threshold to the hereafter. 
 Let the Beasts of unknown angles 
 light the sky aflame 
 and emblazon my sight with heretical heritage; 
 write upon my heart that sacred symbology, 
 that ancient language of Nephilim angels, 
 those words and names only a Man can pronounce. 

 In trapezoidal dreams and living visions, 
 I’ve extended my perceptions 
 past the fractal fragments of the mind’s mirror 
 and through shadowed glass forests I emerged 
 with my solemn companions – 
The Hounds of the Barrier. 

 Their voices are the echoed dreams of my dead fathers 
 and the unwritten wishes of my children’s future. 
 Their eyes are oceans of my ancestor’s reflections, 
 the illustrations of a million madmen; 
 the paintings of the unmapped infinite. 

 Rendered uncolored with pigments of the past, 
 their gazes are not only piercing, 
 but prolific ancient Halls of Intention 
 where stony talismantic gates covered in carvings of inhuman faces 
 await the progenitors of prophecy. 

 Blessed by the presence of my companions, 
 I dilate and die, 
 sacrificing my mind’s eye 
 and every word of my life’s work, 
 so that I may absorb the sun-lit skies into my own eyes 
 commanding the keys of the-is-to-be 
 to open the doors of my destiny. 

 And from this mist, 
 a formless chorus comes forth to sing songs to me, 
 written in psalms sung in infinite octaves and silent keys. 
 From these noteless verses, stories of me – 
of my history as a god – 
written with the black inks of eternity 
 from this grotto of the Beyond. 

 And finally, I hear whispers of the Great Law: 
 A first gift presented by Set 
 to the moonlit descendents of an endless desert. 

 And then my transcendence is triggered, 
 a cosmic weapon fired 
 from the tops of pyramids. 

 and I am the chosen One – 

I am all winged beings stepping through space freely, 
 the flares spotted on the sun. 

 I am all the Annunaki; 
 I am life sentences, sourced by divinity 
 15 billion years in the making. 

 I am the Beast of Eden 
 eating Adam’s apple, 
 I am the vengeance of Lilith 
 and the fruits of an endangered people. 

 I am the name of Legion 
 flowing downward like demons. 
 I am the essence of Styx Rivers 
 and the cry of angels once defeated. 

 I am every vision of Ragnarok. 
 I am the footprints of giants 
 and all the Watchers 
 watching from every mountaintop. 

 I am the dawn on the day of the last Winter Solstice; 
 I am the Morning of Magic on December 22nd… 

I am the first moment after the galactic clock 

 stopped.

www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

TzimTzum

Beast Unburdened

:╪:About:╪: 

 Written in response to the braggadocios sentiment ever pervasive in Western music, "I'm Occultic" is an aggressive proclamation of identity firmly planted in a foundation of occult empowerment.
 

:╪:Lyrics:╪: 

 I’m a witch and this is my hour. 
 I’m a diviner, my blood’s the river’s water 
 I’m a pagan indulging in dead religion. 
 I’m a Satanist carousing with the black mass attendants. 

 I’m acidic 
 like a misanthropic zealot, 
 or most fundamental monotheists. 
 But I don’t ask for forgiveness, 
 the Ancients bless my sentences. 

 Forgive my verbiage, I refuse to conform to rigid systems. 
 You can find me counting stars with Egyptian mystics, 
 or planning world conquest 
 with various underground Masonic lodges. 

 While we sacrifice the masses in the name of the age of Aquarius 

 I’m occultic— 
secret societies often request my services. 
 But I must admit, malicious spirits have infiltrated my dream sequences. 
 So I’ve enlisted Dion Fortune to bolster my psychic self defenses; 
 she’s teaching me how to summon werewolves from my solar plexus, 
 and conjure Set’s visage using only a black candle. 

 I’ve crash-tested my astral vehicle, 
 I call it my 2012 Higher Consciousness— 
It comes in a luxury model. 

 This is a Winter Solstice ritual, 
 I’m hoping to open a portal to the here after, 
 but maybe I’d rather stay and save the physical realm from destroying itself. 

 I’m a Heathen, 
 in my garden I grow freedom. 

 I’m a Shaman 
 eating Mandrake roots to induce psychic vision. 

 I’m a Heathen 
 I’ve written bibles 
 that will inspire the future’s world religions. 

 I’m a theosophical deviant 

 I’m Occultic 

 I’m a theosophical deviant 
 hanging out at the World Tree 
 entertaining a conversation with my astral body, 
 who’s dancing skyclad with Madame Blavatsky. 

 She’s suggesting I start my own society, 
 which inspired me to move to the forest and build an abbey of indulgence— 
the Thelemites visit us often, 
 as do the Left-hand path witches. 

 Do what thou wilt 
 would be a major understatement! 

 From the first, I made you stewards 
 and place you in the twelve seats of government, 
 giving every one of you powers over the nine true ages of time. 
 So that from the highest vessels and the corners of your governments 
 you might work my power, pouring down the fire of life 
 increased continually on the Earth.


www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

I'm Occultic

:╪:About:╪: 

 A little bit of Lucy in the Sky, a little bit of Eve, a little bit of the Void, a little bit of nothing and the low of love deferred. "Summertime Diamonds" represents a falling out of love with oneself; forfeiture of a world best envisioned as a frail, tragic, and nihilistic lover whose demands call for the exhaustion of life itself.

:╪:Lyrics:╪: 


 She chooses her words like she chooses her death: 
 Always in little pieces. 

 I used to be the black star anti-hero, 
 the rebel without applause; 
 the black-clad Son of Sam 
 night-stalking his dreams. 
 I was once a proud disciple of the “other” category. 

 But I’ve become a 401K-paid slave, 
 A 24 karat puppet 
 who dances on command 
 and throws going away parties for himself 
 at various cubicle concentration camps. 

 I’d get into gear, 
 but my aspirations are in the backseat 
 toking it up with my day dreams 
 and hot-boxing my perceptions. 

 But something must be happening to my gag reflex, 
 because I’m hanging from a fluorescent noose, 
 yet my tongue dangles 
 loosening my bonds, 
 trying to convince my fist to resurrect as my lord and savior 
 and crush the dopplegangers that live on my shoulders 
 because they’ve been trying to bullshit my consciousness 
 and trick my brain into remaining comatose. 

 But St. Lazarus arises from the death tube glowing, 
 adorned in Hi-definition white robes 
 and a cathode ray halo encircling his head. 

“You are the walking dead,” 

he says, 
 then ushers me toward the garden, 
 a mass of needle-thin metal grass blades 
 and twisted crystal daisies. 

 It’s beauty blinds me 
 so I begin to bow in prayer, 
 but I’m interrupted by my own corpse 
 hanging from the Tree of Wisdom— 
a mass of twisted fiber optic cables 
 and broken monitors. 

 He appears as an angelic zombie 
 eating apples made of glass 
 and playing with his plastic ribs 
 hoping to resurrect himself. 

 But before I could help him down, 
 Eve’s face flickers on a nearby screen 
 and she screams, 
 begging me to be released. 

 So without a thinking twice, 
 I set my other self aflame 
 while growing xenon wings 
 and setting flight, 
 dragging the All-Mother up with me to the sky. 

 and there we find Lucy, 
 a crystal whore-mistress 
 dancing on the glass ceiling. 
 She holds a jagged diamond 
 to my heart beat, 
 she tells me that fucking her 
 will unlock my divinity; 
 and I’m wearing protection, 
 but she’s already infected my reality. 

 And I’m wearing protection, 
 but she’s already infected my reality. 

 And I’m falling, 
 waking up again 
 in the same bed I died in yesterday.


www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

Summertime Diamonds, Summertime Death

:╪:About:╪: 

 Eve is the ultimate unattainable, that impossible union that we seek from others and ourselves. Sometimes merging with this ideal means we reach a higher plane - the most pleasurable experience; but sometimes, we sacrifice so much of ourselves in pursuit of this ultimate ideal that we become undone in the process. This is the story of someone who is facing the staggering realization that all of his highest ideals that he's worshipped and exalted in others his entire life are becoming undone right before his eyes.

:╪:Lyrics:╪:  

 I drew my last breath, I'm swooned; 
 She's Maya's unmarried moon - 
The dying goddess from the ocean, 
 I'm the drowning feathered serpent. 
 For you and I the angels failed to fly 
 we made ashes out of every paradise; 
 we gave up god and snuffed the sun, 
 made love to death and came undone. 

 She's made from the promise of a pomegranate, 
 the nightside of Eden on a nightly basis. 
 We drink until we're drunk on unholy spirits, 
 we dance until we're dead - this isn't heaven. 
 She's made from the promise of a pomegranate, 
 in this sacred garden, promises are broken. 
 First she ate the apple, then she fucked the serpent, 
 the our children hung me from the tree of wisdom. 

 She sang my name in symbols, my Eve undone: 

 I mistranslated her remnants, 
 I overdosed on the powdered version of her spirit. 
 I unraveled her chakras, 
 and hung myself by them to overcome her oblivion. 
 My heart beats without its body, 
 she recites the pulsations pronouncing my apocalypse. 
 And when it finally came to an end, we were dead, 
 and danced once again. 

 Burnt into the sun, my one and only love, 
 Eve, is undone. 

 She weeps and her colors run, my one and only love, 
 Eve, is undone. 

 Her final words are unsung, my one and only love, 
 Eve, is undone. 

 We always seem to get into these situations, don't we? 
 I don't understand... she tried to speak, but I don't understand her. 
 She asked me how she got here, so I answered: 

 I saw you standing at the edge of never, 
 your reflection expressed nothing manifest. 
 I was elated, 
 I found you drowning in a pool of impassioned intention. 
 I found images of my death hidden in your empty gazes. 
 I fucked the woman on the moon and behind her eyelids I saw suns set. 
 Behind her eyelids, I found my apocalypse. 
 Behind her eyelids, I found the sun permanently eclipsed. 

 Here we are, slaves again, 
 and searching for love after death. 
 In my eyes, I can see 
 Us as fallen gods, bleeding and believing. 
 All we have left is our dreams, 
 but in my dreams, you and I cease to be. 

 You and I cease to be.

www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

Eve Undone

:╪:About:╪: 

 Inspired by the cinematic work, "Koyaanisqatsi", and by the ancient Hopi prophecy which reveals a possible demise of modern American civilization. As a society and a global civilization as a whole, we are living life out of balance; essentially, we are an organism at war with itself. A Day of Purification will come, hopefully, it will be an upheaval of the mind and spirit, and not of the physical world first. For now, we are both agents and victims of a culture headed towards its demise.

:╪: Lyrics :╪: 

 In the name of inked holy ghosts and never-waking natives 
 blood-covered cave drawings depict Americans dreaming 
 In the name of Luna raped at the barrel of a gun 
 mother have mercy as we bow to the final solstice Sun. 

 The Day of Purification has finally come 
 and you're going to be judged for everything that you've done 
 Not by an angry god, but by a forgotten dawn 
 for the child diamonds you dug up and covered in blood 

 So what glitters is stolen 
 that's why God's always golden 
 the only holy is human 
 until a cauldron of ashes descends from Heaven 

 and we scraped toward the sky 
 bled the sunset 
 drank the maiden dry 
 but won't let it all end 

 and I'll make Atlas shrug 
 return dust to dust 
 ashes out of balance 
 so it is done 

 All the children who were gathered 
 fathered under a dusk 
 blank-faced and starry-eyed 
 the Black Sun descendants 
 they wear the face of our ancestors 
 yet none of us remember 
 until we take their hand 
 and finally find a death in their dance 

 All the lost cherubs are flying high 
 transcending city limits 
 history repeats itself 
 but Revelations finally ended 
 Yet I still stand to watch the Western sun set 
 where the silent apocalypse is permanent 

 But in spite of death we dance 
 we sing of holy golden lands 
 the poison rivers water deflowers 
 what's become the son of Man 
 We've grown into an Eden 
 sans the Tree of Wisdom 
 ashes out of balance 
 squandering the apple of Adam 

 And it takes an end-time 
 to force the stars to rise 
 only at the precipice do we tear the veil from our eyes 
 but up until the sixth trumpet 
 it's the deaf against the blind 
 up until the final death 
 do we transcend the flat line 

 And in the name of our children 
 stillborn but still hated 
 in the name of every Middle Passage and Inquisition 
 I call upon the Goddess 
 who's both barren and voiceless 
 to give birth to a fire 
 that will burn down Eden 

 And out from under these ashes 
 there will come a new kingdom 
 despite the past, we'll rise in defiant freedom 
 And every Babel tower will tear the sky open 
 Until every constellation falls and bows in our presence

www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

Ashes Out of Balance

:╪:About:╪: 

 Just moments before his final death, a man experiences a daunting rendezvous with the divine. As he encounters the most sacred Death, he realizes that he has lived a life entirely disconnected from his greatest power, his connection to all things and the great beyond. He has lived a life unable to realize that the infinite was within his very spirit, but must embrace the staggering reality that he is soon to be married to the infinite night forever. Holy Death embraces her son, as falls into a perfect slumber for eternity.
 
:╪: Lyrics :╪: 

 Drifting upon a solar flare 
 she's wilted but bleeding her fires forever 
 He's Aztlan twice removed 
 three days past noon - 
 our final afternoon 

 She's that hallowed god parent 
 who named me after my father's infinity 

 but yet I'm still there 
 lying in the chapel 
 bathing in my final baptismal 

 Mommy's encased in a golden frame 
 drowning in the depths of an emerald 
 She's carried upon the backs of Cherub children 
 buried as pretend-stars 
 She's shining as a goddess in the congregation 
 of my date of birth now deferred 

 In the name of the surrogate sacred mother 
 sunlit goddess of the endless desert 
 In the name of the moonlit maiden of holy places 
 where she waits for me at the end of all things 

 In the name of all things 
 only when I'm drowning do I finally dream 
 Only when she buries me deep underneath the sands 
 do I finally have a name 

 In the name of the ever-afters, 
 only when I've died before the goddess 
 do I finally have a father 

 And only when sets me down to rest 
 do I finally sleep 

 And there I died 
 from earthen graves 
 the local natives rose to wave goodbye 
 they carried my bloodied body 
 and held a last supper in my honor 

 I'm a long-count in a distant desert 
 a clock stopped before completion 
 I'm an inconvenient unholy beauty 
 but the truth a has set me 

 So I'm taking my death and I'm painting it perfectly 
 painters and priests they give sight and lead 
 while the ill-sighted are led 
 the remaining innocence bleeds into the rain 
 drowning everyone in attendance 

 And the children's faces are stained a dirty red 
 they rise to awaken me, yet again 

 She cradles me 
 She cradles me in my final moments 
 as we crossed the threshold quietly 

 Humming softly 
 she plants me a kiss 
 Momma said there'd be days like this 

 Momma said there'd be days like this

www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

El Diablo En Mi Muerte

:╪: Lyrics :╪: 

 (Zodocare eca od zodameranu hoathahe Saitan) 

 On the first day, I created light 
 but cast a darkness on the garden 
 rose from the ashes, the Tree of Eden 
 burnt to the ground by the sons of Adam and 
 I've lived for 6000 years 
 just to die on the dark side of Luna's womb 
 born again to bleed the conviction of Gaia's unmarried moon. 

 And on the 7th day, I forfeit rest 
 as the sun eclipsed inside my chest 
 My heartbeat's solstice summoned Lilith 
 to burn down the garden and burn me down with it. 

 Since my first breath I rested 
 beneath the Tree of Life is the Tree of Death 
 where I then planted the seeds of me. 

 And this is my last breath 
 my first death, yet 
 like the Black Sun I shed my husks and set. 
 And I'm the last Horus on the horizon 
 rising and dying but I'm finally free. 

 (odo cicle qaa; zorge, lape zodoredo noco Mad, hoath laida) 

 Now I'm praying facing the precipice of the endless, 
 a hanged-man hierophant growing into a lotus. 
 On the threshold of forever, I discover my dead father; 
 I lift his body toward the ethers and we pass the gate together. 
 Paradise on the other side and I begin to remember: 
 My son's visage in the distance - I was created in his image. 
 No gods can breathe without our heartbeats. 
 Fire burns my body, but I'm finally free. 

 This is my last breath, 
 this is my first death. 
 Like the Black Sun, I shed my husks and set. 
 But yet, I'm finally free. 

 I was the moon covered in my mother's blood; 
 I was my father, a sackcloth-covered Sun. 
 I became before them, before the first equinox 
 before the endless womb and the Darkness that created God. 
 I am the first light, now extinguished 
 flickering somewhere on the outskirts of the Infinite. 
 Buried under my children in the graveyard of the stars; 
 the boundless unborn - their silence speaks my existence. 

 I am the endless everlasting eclipse, 
 dawned beyond death the Southern Crux and dreamt 
 the promise of a prophet unbroken by a bastard, 
 the last words of a savior disavowing His Creator. 
 And I descend a final time haloed by hellfire - 
 even in this darkness every star will remember 
 that my heart follows the procession, though I need not hear its beat, 
 and the endless ocean flows through my veins 
 as the tide takes me to a place 
 where the last sunrise 
 and the infinite night meet.

www.sheabile.com

:╪: Limited Edition CD Digipak (Limited to 100 copies) ~ $10. Artwork by the renowned Left Hand Path artist Nestor Avalos. Download digital album for free:╪:

[|::About::|] 

Inspired by the litany of "Die Eletrischen Vospiele", as written by Anton Szandor Lavey. Those words carry the same weight and still open doors to the ever-after, as they did when I first read them many years ago.


|::from the "Beast Unburdened" release ~ single off of the upcoming album ~ "Tzimtzum"::|

|::Do what thou wilt ~ If you wish to download, you may do so here, or you could go to the Bandcamp page at ~ http://sheabile.bandcamp.com/ ::|

~:~

[|::Song Credits::|]

: 
Lyrics/Vocals & Keyboards/Synths by Shea Bilé 
:~ 
Acoustic Guitar by Nathan Gordon 
::~ 
Acoustic Bass by Ian Flux 
:: 
Drums and Percussion by Rogie Lucero 
:

~:~

[|::Lyrics::|] 

Let the fires of a shattered sun condense the twilight 
and unfold the threshold to the hereafter. 
Let the Beasts of unknown angles 
light the sky aflame 
and emblazon my sight with heretical heritage; 
write upon my heart that sacred symbology, 
that ancient language of Nephilim angels, 
those words and names only a Man can pronounce. 

In trapezoidal dreams and living visions, 
I’ve extended my perceptions 
past the fractal fragments of the mind’s mirror 
and through shadowed glass forests I emerged 
with my solemn companions – 
The Hounds of the Barrier. 

Their voices are the echoed dreams of my dead fathers 
and the unwritten wishes of my children’s future. 
Their eyes are oceans of my ancestor’s reflections, 
the illustrations of a million madmen; 
the paintings of the unmapped infinite. 

Rendered uncolored with pigments of the past, 
their gazes are not only piercing, 
but prolific ancient Halls of Intention 
where stony talismantic gates covered in carvings of inhuman faces 
await the progenitors of prophecy. 

Blessed by the presence of my companions, 
I dilate and die, 
sacrificing my mind’s eye 
and every word of my life’s work, 
so that I may absorb the sun-lit skies into my own eyes 
commanding the keys of the-is-to-be 
to open the doors of my destiny. 

And from this mist, 
a formless chorus comes forth to sing songs to me, 
written in psalms sung in infinite octaves and silent keys. 
From these noteless verses, stories of me – 
of my history as a god – 
written with the black inks of eternity 
from this grotto of the Beyond. 

And finally, I hear whispers of the Great Law: 
A first gift presented by Set 
to the moonlit descendents of an endless desert. 

And then my transcendence is triggered, 
a cosmic weapon fired 
from the tops of pyramids. 

and I am the chosen One – 

I am all winged beings stepping through space freely, 
the flares spotted on the sun. 

I am all the Annunaki; 
I am life sentences, sourced by divinity 
15 billion years in the making. 

I am the Beast of Eden 
eating Adam’s apple, 
I am the vengeance of Lilith 
and the fruits of an endangered people. 

I am the name of Legion 
flowing downward like demons. 
I am the essence of Styx Rivers 
and the cry of angels once defeated. 

I am every vision of Ragnarok. 
I am the footprints of giants 
and all the Watchers 
watching from every mountaintop. 

I am the dawn on the day of the last Winter Solstice; 
I am the Morning of Magic on December 22nd… 

I am the first moment after the galactic clock 

stopped.

:╪: Artist ~ Shea Bilé
:╪: Song ~ Invocation of Nothing
~:~

:╪: About :╪: 

A mantric beckoning, a desperate call to sublate into a sacred state, into something pure and numinal; an endeavor to return to the unmanifest, to an uncreated form. The attainment of godhood comes at the expense of heaven and everything else, so an invocation is uttered that speaks of that which never was: an Invocation of Nothing.

~ Cover Art by Giselle Bolotin (FB: www.facebook.com/saffron.garma)

~::::::::::|:::::::::|::::::::::|::::::::::|:::::::::|:::::::::~

:╪: Bandcamp - https://sheabile.bandcamp.com/track/i...
:╪: Website - http://www.sheabile.com
:╪: Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/shea.bile
:╪: Facebook (Band) - https://www.facebook.com/sheabile.band/
:╪: Twitter - https://twitter.com/sheabile
:╪: Podcast - http://www.deferredgnosis.com/

~:::::::::|:::::::::|::::::::::|::::::::::|:::::::::|:::::::::~

Invocation of Nothing

A six-winged misfit descended from heaven.

Shea Bilé

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