Such distance to the tips of the fingers,. The ganglion loom jerks inside;. The body grows steadily stranger. But the spirit won't be denied.. That sharp halogen flash jars the eyeball,.
At night, this mindless army, ranks unbroken by dissent,. Is moved into action and their pace does not relent.. In step, with great precision, these dancers of the night.
Horus the Good lived in the North. In lands of fertility and beauty. But Set stayed in the hard desert. To him belonged all drought and perversity. . And he sheds his tears.
i. THE EMPEROR. Standing in the space that holds the silent lace of night. away from you. You think that you can hold the searing, moulten gold between.