A Maze of Recycled Creeds

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I heed the warrior's call It's time to act now Let us cross the dagger and the rose Let us form a holy militia To revive the nobility of mankind Angels at our side O Parsifal Now let your trumpets blow Here we restore The cult of the ideal In all it's splendor Religion became art to talk to the masses Art shall turn into religion To speak to the elite O Parsifal Now let your trumpets blow Open the door of the temple The temple to the Art-God If the thinkers crystallize reflection Come what may Artists must glorify reality Conquer We have to conquer the city of light Conquer We might be few against many But i can feel But i can feel the angel's breath By our side While some deride my exertions I am the harbinger of a new religion Beauty is the purpose Art is the means The only single rule to follow Is the ideal Angels are at our side O Parsifal Now let your trumpets blow Here we restore The cult of the ideal In all it's splendor We shelter only what summons all perfections The lordy rapture will survive The piety of the past O Parsifal Now let your trumpets blow Open the door of the temple The temple to the Art-God

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025

Getting to know thyself starts When you raise your gaze to the stars Here comes Shamas, the one who shines through his glory Expecting to be known He lives alone but without privacy Sin, the Moon God The talented but deviant lyricist He's destined to solitary wanderings and adventurous life I see Nergal, the epitome of zeal and violence Meant to strike the right balance between action and wildness Istar is graceful and irresistible A boundless dedication doomed to fall into madness And there is Nebo... the conscientious one Skillful... and clearly heartless, save for his own ends A forgotten genius whose cleverness turned into lies He, the nimble one, who has thrown too many stones Thus having revenge by enslaving the weak minds At last a dead star charred by the light of glory Thus we shall define our celestial nature Through the seven stars dwells our vocation... our labor... Adar, the order's creator He's pure and nominated for great works of faith and science Merodack, the jovial, the one whose name you stole He gets power only by the consent of his peers The consent of the temple You are Nebo... the unsightly one Skillful... and clearly heartless, save for your own ends The forgotten genius whose cleverness turned into lies You, the nimble one, who has thrown too many stones Thus having revenge by enslaving the weak minds At last a dead star charred by the light of glory Thus we shall define our celestial nature

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

Once there were young believers who founded together A common creed reconciling man with nature Combining knowledge and belief, from matter to spirit The inner alchemy can change the whole world The appalling devotion of our culture Comes from the boundless timelessness of those who write, and teach Our mission is to maintain creation on the peaks, Out of reach of idle hands Mages! We are sailors! They applaud all the darings of the mundane, usurping the genius That's why our doctrine should operate a redemption The world has undergone too many revolutions Art is expected to become the cult of times to come When religion becomes counterfeit, art shall save the vital core Restoring the holy boundary that separated idleness from masterwork Let us redeem creation and recover its priestly conception I found the illuminations I am now entrusted with a mission Through the cult of the ideal We will conquer Mages! We are sailors! The Mage is a sailor heading to a point That is invisible to the commonwealth After having crossed the oceans, he will find the illumination And know the science of the will And discover the inner alchemy

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025

After religion and lordship, art was yet to be destroyed We lost the standards but I found them again I do believe in the ideal, in tradition, in a noble power structure Our task is to discard all three abominations That lead us to the doctrine of decay I predict a miracle! A rose will rise and open growing I predict a miracle! Here will triumph the mystic triad of Artistry Art is the great mystery When effort leads to a masterpiece Divine rays descend... like on the altar Art is the real empire When the human hand draws a perfect line Angels descend... to mirror themselves Art is the great miracle This is the evidence of our timelessness Art-God, the last reflection from heaven of our downfall I predict a miracle! A rose will rise and open growing I predict a miracle! Here will triumph the mystic triad of Artistry After belief and discipline, creation was yet to be wasted We lost the standards but I found them again Those dark times made us forget that art is invested with a holy mission It shall create the path to redemption for the salvation of mankind The Great Revelation The gallery is the New Church Weak conferences are preached Works are the mirrors of light And the watchers are disciples I predict a miracle! A rose will rise and open growing I predict a miracle! Embracing the divine cross of salvation I predict a miracle! Here will triumph the mystic triad of Artistry

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

Sacred vows are made to be broken Three hundred years later, the grave will open For there is an order to reclaim We are back from oblivion again Born from the poor fellow-soldiers The world is going through a serious crisis Divided by financial conflicts Holy wars are sowing terror and chaos Let us break the silence As science is Focused on the material The living standards continue to fall Time has come to ask for more humanity Let us break the silence For there is an Order to reclaim We are back from oblivion again Born from the poor fellow-soldiers A traveling mendicant order But sacred laws are made to be broken Reveal our ambition Revive the mendicant order... now! Tax exemption... the oath of poverty Immunity from persecution... the Vow of Chastity And no Submission... Obedience? To the secular power Death is so great... Death is so great... Death is so great that nine would accuse us Of seeking victory... of seeking another end Reveal our ambition Revive the poor fellow-soldiers After the King's denial, the order became mendicant again And the poor fellow-bankers were condemned to burn at the stake...

Never forget that a mage is not a priest All sins are granted, provided one gains experience Daily introspection, prayer and meditation Will soon lead you from passion to Holiness It is vital to know the boundaries of love in order to not mislead oneself... Concerning love, disappointments are inevitable A lover will have nothing to offer... but his own delusion Wisdom advises you to watch only from afar the entire worldly fantasy One's partner should never go beyond their wonderful task As a second fiddle to the sexual pair It is vital to know the boundaries of love in order to not mislead oneself... Let us await our Chymical Wedding When our soul will rise and marry God for eternity Utter incontinence is not an obligation Love, and the suffering it causes reveal A long windy road to inner perfection From passion to Holiness Choose your partners wisely Because as a disciple, you are sentenced to remain defensive Offer no clarity to general cowardice Flee judgement, contempt and mockery Don't ever be compliant Let your most passionate feelings rise and become unreal Thus you will unveil almost nothing to misfortune Let us await our Chymical Wedding When our soul will rise and marry God for Eternity Utter incontinence is not an obligation Love, and the suffering it causes reveal A long windy road to inner perfection From passion to Holiness...

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025

What a pleasing game to change one's own ancestry Especially when your last name suffers a lack of majesty You're surely not the son of Bel But rather the one who holds the spade Pretending to teach the government of existence Soley a self-proclaimed prophet claiming ignorance But what is more attractive than becoming a Magus or a Fairy? How to give meaning to one's own life when one feels good for nothing? Those of your kind know how to give false praise In the process of indoctrination In the scheme of self-glorification You couldn't resist this inclination: Overusing random and puzzling patterns To please the reckless ones But if you really want to honor your lineage Now grab a spade and dig into yourself Who can lead a life on ready-made principles? Who can be satisfied with a ready-made truth? A ready-made reality! Swimming with the tide... The time has come for you to honor your lineage Now grab a spade and dig into yourself You're surely not the son of Bel But rather the one who holds the spade

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025

Let me rejoice your soul Holy Baptism made us the children of God Society dedicated us to evil In constant conflict with our culture Only faith can keep us away from the vultures There is no wisdom without deprival No salvation for the rebels Let me entice you into another world We will teach you the government of yourself And show you the way to light So let me enlighten your mind Let me rejoice your soul Seek only the magical power of your inner excellence Improve yourself and become radiant And as the Sun, heat latent ideal life around you Come to me/ Be my disciple/ See the light Forsake the seven bad habits Cut yourself off from your peers Otherwise you will suffer without growing Deny the commonwealth, forget all others, to rise to personality "Then you shall see the radiant; Your heart shall thrill and exult, Because the abundance of the sea shall be turned to you, The wealth of nations shall come to you" Isaiah 60:5 We own the rational knowledge that will engage the Renewal of Society I own the spiritual essence that will lead to the Renewal of Man I am the heir of Bel, the demiurge The Lord of the world The master of all the lands I do belong to the holy Order that committed my fate, That will commit your fate And you'll know an extraordinary destiny...

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 26, 2025

Coalesce to this spiritual family Which arrogated a mythical and whimsical descent Unable to write a line without spitting in one's face Your self-named origins from Assyria A dreamlike being that feeds on the world of legend Remind yourselves that you are only men And none of you have yet accessed the heavenly or astral state You seem to suffer from a disease of lyricism Your doctrine appears to be a Syncretic Delirium Fashioned with any kind of magic and occult science Mingling your own Church with ideals from the East I forbid you excuses and push you away I force you into silence and disgrace You seem to suffer from a disease of lyricism Your doctrine appears to be a Syncretic Delirium A dreamlike being that feeds on the world of legend Indulging yourself in all kinds of digressions Abandoned to the whims of your own diction You seem to suffer from a disease of lyricism Your doctrine appears to be a Syncretic Delirium The discordant pages of your works held together only by the binding Creator of a real disorder which finally laid you on the line I forbid your excuses and push you away I force you into silence and disgrace

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 26, 2025

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