by Jake Block
In youth I found the passage
Which led me far from home and kin
It led me to wars without, lands far away
And deeper wars that waged within.
Yet while my mind’s clouds gathered
And visions rose and fell,
I realized that the earthly plane
Was indeed at once ones heaven and one’s hell.
The gods above or devils below
Were simply spawns of id
I could trod the path I chose in life
Left, right or centered grid.
On I forged a path my own
With little time wasted on regret
At last when logic deemed it time
I turned, and I found Baphomet.
Ever left, my travels now
I find the path where others failed
I need no maps or spirit guides
Or long dead saviors whose hands were nailed.
The path is mine, I pay the toll
I taste the fruits I’ve planted
Life and death, all in good time
Without need to be recanted.
As I have lived so shall I die
There’ll be no doubt to ponder
I simply lived and chose the path,
Hard to the left I wander.
The path is mine and mine alone
Others might choose to come
The path will always be renewed
When a traveler rests both dead and numb.
Most will never trod the path
Many will stay in their pastures
But the path awaits an intrepid few
Who reject chains to be masters.
The Orders of The Sect of the Horned God