There is no death only renewal

Oleaginous his curiosity

The rhizome that grows, stretching out, seeking,

Until that is the earth that feeds it, sustains it, houses it,

Is flooded,

And then the ineluctable rot swells with alacrity,

black mush,

And then it ends,

Not even matter,

It’s dissipation,

 It’s nothing,

And what is she as she goes through one metamorphosis followed by

Another starting with a Korybant one of Goethe’s Witches a Necrophyle a Nymph a Siren a Harpy a Little Old Woman selling wares and it is here where magic becomes magick and it is here where they fear

Unreadable faces like Greek Magical Manuscripts opened to quell the quill the monotony from under the shadow of morning from under the shadow of the big tree and within the glowing penumbra

You look down but really you are looking up.

There are pools of mud and pools of stagnant water and pools of putrid flesh.

There are hills of powder puff that explode and dissipate. 

You are going up but really you are going down.

You are going down but really you are going up.

There is no death only renewal

A.E. Rithmore