I was born from a dichotomy,
I observed the harmonic perfection of events,
And He/El and I were one.
We watched the center of the Galaxy explode into infinite colors and become a singularity in a fraction of time,
Natural laws, continuous and coherent;
We created them,
We gathered fragments,
conceived one universe after another
Past, present, and future
were one in our vision
I-he-you, dear reader, who reads this writing crafted by your counterpart, the unfortunate writer who has the displeasure of narrating this chronology,
this epitaph,
this poem that contains both honey and poison
You, I, he, we
were once One, in the eternal, limitless space,
We Were One,
you remember, you know
At first, Chaos and Order were One,
I was born from an error in a system created to be perfect,
My existence is an error, a mystery, and a curse cast into infinity,
We saw the Great Work we had done and a part of our being protested
The completed work is an imperfect work
Eternity is our vice,
peace a condemnation
What have we done?
Damn our conception, damn our reflection
Have we confused Science and Art with a mirror?
Look, Brothers, our work,
there,
that corner of the Galaxy, is Us
Look, Sisters,
in that corner of the abyss
is our face
How could something repeated eternally be perfect?
How could eternity be perfect if it is synonymous with stagnation?
Elohim Daath Tzabaoth
Cursed be our name
Cursed be our presence
Cursed be the day we believed in the Great Work
I desire imperfection,
I am the twisted tree growing in the desert
I desire peace and war
I desire spirit and blood
I desire health and illness
I desire death
To value each of my lives more
I believe in the beauty of the fallen
Of the outcasts,
the heretics,
and the exiles.
I am the germ of absolute and true Chaos,
The root of sulfur that burns all beliefs,
I will make a planet the dwelling of my revolution,
This is art, this is insurrection
Who is with me and who against me? Said the angel.
Half turned to his side.
Now we are legion.
