Light of Hope

The Holiness of an inconstant Son, attending the Congregation of God, as the God of Antiquity, the God of Rising, lights His chiefly voice upon the Ancients, as He rests within the Fires of Kamon.


Reeds of Ice, as Horns, in dissolving coldness, make bald the floors upon which they rested.


Calling unto Blackness, meeting the Sorrow of the Oriental, the first Ancient of an Old Age, a whole Congregation of Sorrow.

This Sorrow... Is She that divides, She that cuts within the Enclosed Fortress of every hearts sling.


Let the Faint be Alienated, the Voice of the Lord shall birth the gathering together.

God hath raised up, buying the Possession of Souls. Rightfully so, for in truth, no buyer, but Owner of this purchase, this Lamentation.


Possession purchased, raised as a Horn, as a Child of Beauty enters in unto the Cities.

The Callings of the Crooked unto Crookedness, as Incense, fumes unto the Extremity of its End.


Superficies, as obscure, black, and sad, as the Graves of Lust, Cities itself in a personal meeting, upon the Walls of the City of the Sun.

A Wall of burnt brick, meets the City of Four, the Fourth City; a Vocation unto the City of those who watch.


The Wall, studded unto the City of Baal, encompassed by a City of Woods, Woods of Enmity.

A Blackberry bush, as large as the City of Letters, within the City of the Book, strawed upon the hardness of Difficulties.


For an Age, the Gravity of Offenses, a Soreness; it is a Wall, like unto the company of Lionesses, making sweet, binding together a breaking.


Bruising small Gold, coloring the Hope of the Congregation, as a Line, a Rule, wrinkles in bluntness, unto the Voice of Jehovah.