Temptation Rears its Ugly Head  

 

Temptation rears its ugly head

And torments using subtle means

Blinding us with sexy whims

That creep up on us in our greed

Blue words to paint that damned tableau

And raise the call which bares the mind

That splendid farce which hides such truth

That even time’s grey veil can’t shield

 

Within our subtle bodies lie

The sweetness keeping dreams alive

Our wicked whims had pierced us through

And pushed us from our righteous path

 

The things we often tell ourselves

To explain away our desperate needs

That whip which breaks upon our backs

The dark deep pain we feel today

 

And within life’s soft, sweet shell

We speak those quiet whispers now

Until the masks we wear fall off

We’ll never know what’s underneath

And who remains to gloat

That dark divide between ourselves

Feeds on upon an idiot’s bliss

 

Such ignorance will break us

And take out our self-worth

Yet through all our self-deception

We still reveal the proof

That humanity’s a metaphor

Sweet words we painted red

 

Despite our lies that day must come

We’ll step out from our false skins

And feed our greatest sin

Hubris, is mankind’s greatest folly

We are but flesh and blood

A walking bag of sad mistakes

The universe adores.

Advertisements

That Awful, Bygone Fire

Its been a while since I posted anything, my focus was distracted for a while by, well a great many things.  So when this happens I always return to my first love which is poetry.   So i have written a new piece which is going to be included in my next book Dark and Desperate Meditations.

But before I post it I wanted to share some of my thoughts.  Recently, a critic said that my poetry was too self-centered, as if my writing about the things that I see, that I feel, things that move me must somehow be translated in a language that takes all personal connection from me to my work and makes it impersonal with no connection to the very soul who wrote it.  The fact is his words irritated me greatly at the time, but the more I thought about them I understood.  You see, critics have no creativity of their own, no artistry, so it is only by experiencing the world that artists create that they can feel even a tiny fragment of what we artists experience every second of our lives.  And because of this they essentially are hoping that you will spoon feed them your passion, your power so that they too can experience it.  So this is what I say to critics of all stripes, I don’t write for you, I never have. I write for exactly three people and those people are as follows:  me, myself and I.  So i will keep on writing the way I write and feeling how I feel. After all you critics don’t have to read my work do you?

I hope you enjoy this poem.

 

That Awful, Bygone Fire

 

 Above the candy colored rooftops

Of Southern Californian houses

There rests a sky that is a sickly yellow-gray

Thick with the oppression of unfulfilled dreams

And they are watching these inhabitants very carefully…

 

For decades there has been an unending melancholy drizzle

Of which most who live here are oblivious to

As they remain huddled deep within their slick abodes

Drinking their soul-reviving elixirs

During this quiet time of dark contemplation…

 

There is however, a consistent patter

A sound

As if some unseen signaler watches

By the light of some awful, begone fire

And had been simply waiting but now is scratching at the door…

 

As the sun sets and these denizens gather

Their numbers steadily increasing

That same fire begins to illuminate the strange skins

That they, these spiritual paupers

Have bedecked themselves in

Helpless yet hoping…

 

Music plays, drink flows

They revel in a chemical embrace

Lips locked, bodies writhing

Not to the rhythm and melodies of Nature

But instead they dance to the dark song

That their hunger provides

Swaying them, undulating them

Serpentine and hypnotic

Just waiting for the moment to strike…

 

They are a lesson in humanity

A tableau to mortal folly

A combined vision of both the past and the future

That lies behind a tattered curtain

Hiding the tales of suffering and sorrow

Of victory and repentance

Of humiliation and guilt

A pantomime performed on a night not unlike this one

On this stage like so many other stages

Scorched by that same awful, bygone fire…

Dark and Desperate Meditations

This is an excerpt from my latest collection of poetry titled, Dark and Desperate Meditations.  I hope you enjoy it.  I will be done with final editing this week and will publish it sometime by the end of next week.  As with all my works, it too, will be available on Amazon in both paper and e-book format.

 

Jean-Marc Iyeli Adeyemi Akerele

 Dark and Desperate Meditations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Marc Iyeli Adeyemi Akerele

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author.

 

 

For Wain and Erika:

Who could ask for better friends?

 

 

Dark and Desperate Meditations

 

Such dark and desperate meditations

That yearn for brighter pleasantries

In those simpler times when all is now so complex

These small temptations  weary us

With bold strokes of their barbed whip to our sullen intellect

And in such moments all that was once whole becomes torn

Much like the grieving Widow who is life, rips her gown to mourn her loss.

 

The plot to overthrow the divine spits out its vitriol and burns the veil

And now these metal deities have free reign within our psyches

For the quiet balm of Imagination has fled and in our sleep we hear its lamentations

 

These Binary terrors hold us tightly in thrall

Yet still, we welcome them and bare our throats

No sensuality comes to save us from this wicked symbiosis

A slavery that has evolved from the god in the machine

which slowly chains our free-will

 

Bright screens are what will grace our tombstones

As our souls live on in that strange and convoluted web

But even as eternity beckons we know we are shedding mass

Becoming less and less humanity and leaving Passion behind

In exchange for cold Logic and  sharp Intellect

 

Our world now exists in ones and zeros

That cage of code and electronics where we can pretend to not be human

We have shed the morals which built our world

They bleed out now into our prayers

Our own sad lamentations that are now devoured by the world wide web.

 

 

 I am the Bitter Poet

 

Close to me

I feel an uncertainty taking root

Preventing me from getting closer

With its gnarly limbs and its sticky morals

To the daemons of pure reason

And the things that I cannot quite make out

Those things whose control is the yoke upon my aching shoulders

 

From time to time

I cease to think

Hoping that this mental stasis will bring a cold clarity

And all the constant pain of being alive

Will for one blessed moment leave me in peace

 

 

But there is no fidelity in this bondage

And no fealty that I have sworn to the incessant rapist

who violates my sense and sensibilities

Only confirms that this concept of free-will

This illusion of self-control

Is but a silly fiction that humanity maintains

A false and fatal facade

Which poisons us with its stupidity

And that strange intelligence that strips us

Of the dark and fertile soil that is in our minds

The very foundation upon which our future lies dormant

Just waiting to erupt

 

So I play the Fool

The harlequined jester to the mad tyrant

Who rules all that life demands

But unlike the others who too, wear motley

I do not bow and scrape

I, that bitter poet, who can get closest to the throne

As the sovereign laughs at my strange antics

I must keep it amused

So that its despite remains far from my shoulders

While those billions of fools, those sheep

Remain by their own choices oppressed

 

But even still I know I am not free

This bastard child that we call life

Has grown cancerous and malignant

And even though I have experienced so many of its disappointments

I cannot yet put it aside

 

For I am a bitter poet

But in this I am alone

This world of ours needs a thousand of me

For I define by my very existence

What it means when life is sweet

 

As I pierce all those self-deceptions

That women and men so tenaciously cling to

Such flotsam and jetsam

I ask myself, “Are my barbed words

The wreckage from my life’s painful syllables?”

 

We are prisoners one and all

And words can only take us so far

For existence is a panopticon whose prisoners are oblivious

They will never be free

Nor do they want to be

 

My words then are not for the masses

Those sad puppets of a laughing tyrant

I spit them out into the depths of this strange cosmos

For the ears of all that is divine

Because one day I will be free of this place

And in preparation for this I tether myself to the Gods

When my journey beyond life’s shores begins

That place where I will roam in whatever is next

There shall I fly high upon those whispering words

That I once shouted out to the worlds beyond.

 

 

Beauty’s Does Not Submit

 

My attempt to force Beauty’s total submission

Into the heart of a supplicant through an act of silence

A silence in which I thought that my voice would add a new dimension

To this tableau that her and I were attempting to build

It created a such perfect picture

But one that was easily defiled

 

But all that was in the beginning

And that my sin has supplanted

The magnificent design of this silence

That was once so full

 

Now her unspeakable contempt has punished me

As she looks at our world with cold and passionless eyes

And in the masques of angry red mists and greenish envy

That I am now forced to wear

She will no longer reveal herself

For Beauty submits to no man

 

I Sometimes Wonder

 

I sometimes wonder

Where is my soul

And who is this dark beggar that I see

Inside my face

With his friendly and companionable pain

Wheezing and scratching at my skin

Like a desperate rat

Trying to break through a crumbling wall

 

I used to believe that it was not my fault

That I had befriended him and his strong purpose

I danced with him

I courted him

I opened myself up to his direction

And payed the price

When he ripped out my feckless brain

And made it scream while I watched

 

 

 

 

The Hierophant Enters Volumes 1&2

I have decided to to take a break from the Irunmole saga for a while, sorry if that disappoints, but I am exercising my artistic prerogative.  Instead i decided to post one of my most inflammatory and somewhat offensive books to change pace for a little bit. Sometimes i just want to say things for no other reason than just to say them….

This book is a series of maxims, statements, and revelations, some wise, most just simply…me.  This is me at both my most absurd and mymost intelligent.  i hope you enjoy it…or not.

The Hierophant Enters Volume 1 and Volume 2

 DO NOT READ THIS BOOK IF YOU ARE

  1. EASILY OFFENDED (SENSITIVE PEOPLE BORE ME)
  2. SOME SORT OF RELIGIOUS, RIGHT WING NUT JOB (FANATICS ANNOY ME)
  3. AN IDIOT (YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND IT)
  4. SOMEONE WITH NO SENSE OF HUMOR (YOU WILL NOT APPRECIATE IT)
  5. EXTREMELY HAIRY (GO SHAVE YOURSELF FIRST)
  6. PRISSY (YOU MAY HAVE A HEART ATTACK)
  7. SMELLY (BECAUSE YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY FILTHY)
  8. UGLY (I DON’T LIKE UGLY PEOPLE AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)
  9. AN ADDICT (THESE WORDS ARE ADDICTIVE)
  10. SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY LIKES ME (YOU MAY HATE ME AFTERWARDS)
  11. MY MOTHER (BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO SHOCK YOU MOM)
  12. A VIRGIN (IT WILL CORRUPT YOU)
  13. THE POPE (IT WILL CHANGE YOU AND WE CANNNOT HAVE THAT)
  14. JESUS CHRIST (YOU WILL HAVE TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF)
  15. GOD (YOU MIGHT STRIKE ME DOWN)

 

IF YOU FIND THAT YOU ARE NOT ON THIS LIST THEN YOU I URGE YOU TO READ ON, READ ON

 

Volume 1 (Just the Tip!)

 

 For my brother, Babs

 

 

  1. It is interesting that society attaches no stigma to that ultimate form of madness which is love, instead it seeks to cultivate it in all its myriad forms.

 

  1. A thirsty man thinks about water not pussy.

 

  1. When one understands the nature of one’s enemy often patience becomes the most effective weapon against him.

 

  1. I keep telling you people that the universe is drowning in Darkness and the Light that you all adore and worship is simply treading water alongside everything else. Eventually it will tire and drown just like anything else would.

 

  1. Psychology is the impossible science which seeks to quantify the one thing which cannot be quantified. Yet it is ironic that so much of humanity’s future lies squarely upon its shoulders.

 

  1. If you want something to remain a secret then don’t tell anyone. Or if you do then kill the messenger, kill your confidant and then kill yourself and then guess what?  No more secret.

 

  1. Lust without an acceptable outlet contains as much energy as an atomic weapon and is just as destructive. But just imagine lighting up an entire city block through the delicious act of simple masturbation.  That thought alone gives me great pleasure.  It also gives new meaning to “Clap on! Clap off!” doesn’t it?

 

  1. Home is not where the heart is, home is the heart. We carry it wherever in this world we go.  And yes, that includes the toilet.

 

  1. Never forget that someday life will kill you.

 

  1. Why do you ask, am I always sad? Quite simply because I have the misfortune of being alive.

 

  1. In the end, the truth is irrelevant.

 

  1. If life is compared to a complex banquet then suffering and strife are the spices which season it best.

 

  1. In refusing to ever give up you succeed at least in doing something.

 

  1. What scares me most is the concept of love because it makes even the most level-headed people become reckless.

 

  1. If I can think, then I can never be caged.

 

  1. All paths ultimately lead to nowhere.

 

  1. It is important to realize that the past is the past; one should never use it as an anchor unless you plan on drowning in useless memories.

 

  1. To live is to simply postpone the inevitable. And by the inevitable I mean Death.

 

  1. While the Past loves the Future and the Present loves itself, The Future despises them both equally.

 

  1. Power respects no rules so neither should those who wield it.

 

  1. Why do I tell so many lies? Because quite frankly you would never believe the truth.

 

  1. So life is all about suffering eh? Then why the fuck am I having such a good time?

 

  1. My goal in life is to finally wake up before it is my time to die.

 

  1. Love is both the disease and the cure.

 

  1. Even a eunuch will fight to the death to protect what little he has left.

 

  1. A round backside is the Blackman’s Kryptonite.

 

  1. I love the future so much because thankfully I will not be there to experience it.

 

  1. The hubris of humanity is to try to constantly try to create perfection, an endeavor in which the Creatrix Herself has never succeeded.

 

  1. Time is simply a human word for confusion.

 

  1. War has given rise to some of humanity’s greatest accomplishment, so since nothing seems to be happening right now in terms of great achievements we shall probably start one. Oh, that’s right we just did.

 

  1. If I make it to fifty I am going to do something so outrageous that I don’t make it to fifty-one.

 

  1. Have you ever wondered what the world would have been like if Lucifer had actually won his war?

 

  1. Love teaches us that we are all fools.

 

  1. God asked me to dance once. Of course, I was pretty high at the time so it might actually have been the ugly she-male sitting next to me.

 

  1. Why is the idea of drinking milk from a cow, a completely different species of mammal than Homo Sapiens so much more palatable than the thought of drinking human breast milk?

 

  1. Temptation is merely the confirmation that you wanted something despite your self-delusion.

 

  1. Man is the Key; woman is the Lock. So why can’t open the bloody door?

 

  1. It might become necessary soon to begin eating our young. Try and figure out what that means.

 

  1. I wish I could go back in time and lose my virginity over and over again….and again…and again….

 

  1. The gods require our faith to exist but they pay for it by granting us mystical experiences. Did you catch that?

 

  1. I don’t want children. I want miniature adults with fully formed personalities so that I can have fun watching the drama that will come as their bodies grow, while at the same time knowing that they have the mature minds to deal with their own problems without my guidance and thus leave me in peace to do what I have always done.

 

  1. I feel obligated to push the outer limits of sensation. After all, why was in given this wondrous form if I was not meant to experience EVERYTHING?

 

  1. Top or bottom? In the grand scheme of things it’s all the same to me.

 

  1. Extinction hovers over humanity like the grey smog which smothers many of our cities. Sorry I couldn’t be more profound, I had a brain fart.

 

  1. When you die and go to heaven, you self-righteous pricks, kindly tell your God and all His saints to kiss my Black ass.

 

  1. The human mind tastes like pickles. Yes, that’s right, pickles.

 

  1. I love my enemies. Want to know why?  Because they keep me entertained.

 

  1. What do you think Jesus Christ really meant when he said turn the other cheek?

 

  1. I assure you I will die with a massive erection just to see how the undertaker deals with that and the sly smile that will be on my dead face.

 

  1. I don’t lie; I simply show the world my version of the truth.

 

  1. Everyone looks alike when they are dead.

 

  1. They say that I am mentally unstable but it is their own accusations which cause my madness to continue to breed and it is their sad indulgence which feeds the very insanity that they are trying to cure.

 

  1. Commitment is a crutch and love is the slow poison which makes cripples of us all. Yet removing either one of these still causes us to crawl like the invalids we have become.

 

  1. Love is a subject that would be best taught by slaves.

 

  1. Why is it that we males always feel so depressed after blowing our wads? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of having sex in the first place if this post-coital depression makes you miserable afterwards?

 

  1. The greatest treasure I have ever possessed was round, firm and jiggled when I played with it.

 

  1. I hate strawberry lemonade now. Do you want to know why?  Because the only woman I have ever truly loved in my life tasted of strawberry lemonade.  And yes, I do mean between her legs.

 

  1. What can I say? wisdom is like food; you eat enough of it and eventually shit is going to emerge and how many normal people enjoy the presence of shit?

 

  1. In order for you to fly, you must first jump from your comfortable and safe perch knowing that there is a strong possibility that you will simply fall and break your neck.

 

  1. Pussy is called pussy not only because it is warm and furry but also because if you don’t treat it right it will spit and scratch at you. I have no idea why I just wrote that.

 

  1. One of my arms is bigger than the other, probably because I am male. I don’t think it takes an M.D. to figure out why.

 

  1. My mother always told me, when I would I ask what a certain food was that she was serving me, “never mind what it is because you will eat and you will enjoy it!” Did she realize that this would become the instruction manual for my life?

 

  1. If God said “let there be light,” and then there was light, then doesn’t that mean that previously (and only god knows for how long) God existed happily in complete and utter darkness? So what does that say about a) The Judeo-Christian God, b) The Judeo-Christian moral framework in which everything that is dark is negative and evil?  I could say more but I think I will leave that statement as it is before I am assassinated by irate evangelicals who are already probably extremely pissed off by my earlier statement about Jesus and turning the other cheek.

 

  1. Darkness can exist by itself, but Light cannot. One is wholly dependent on the other for its existence.  Which one is more essential then, the Light or the Dark?

 

  1. That dismal sac of flesh the dangles between the legs of men does not by any means define masculinity. Just ask the Olympic gold medalist Caitlin Jenner.

 

  1. Back shots. Need I say more?

 

  1. Power is the world’s most expensive whore. Although you can enjoy her for as long as you are willing to pay her price, you can never actually possess her.  Because there is always someone else who is willing to pay a greater price than you.

 

  1. What do you say to a gorgeous woman who is holding a 14 inch long cucumber in the produce section with obvious longing on her face? Absolutely nothing, unless of course the one you are holding is 15 inches long.

 

  1. We should replace every soldier’s gun with a pen because words are much more powerful.

 

  1. I love pussy. What?  It’s my book I can say whatever I want.

 

  1. Let’s be very clear ladies. I am not saying that women are four-legged beasts or anything but I am saying that any woman I am with must be big enough for me to ride.

 

  1. I have knelt time and time again at the altar of my desire only to find that the deity I had worshipped all my life in reality hated my guts. I have no idea what that means.  It just kind of popped out.

 

  1. All men should shave their balls. If you think about it you will understand what I am really saying.

 

  1. What do you think Bill Clinton did with that cigar afterwards?

 

  1. I’ve got to ask. How exactly did the Holy Spirit impregnate the Virgin Mary?  And by that, I mean, you know, what position?

 

  1. When you ingest food there will always be waste to expelled. So what happens when you take in true knowledge?

 

  1. I have surrendered nothing but that which was never mine in the first place.

 

  1. I saw. I conquered.  I came.  That’s really what Julius Caesar meant to say.  Just ask Cleopatra.

 

  1. Money is not the root of all evil, but it is certainly the root of some of it.

 

  1. What or where is the original source of the “Black Myth?”

 

  1. Lies complete me

 

  1. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment, so more than likely I will fall in love again.

 

  1. You want to know why I am so strange? Because I am in love with a Goddess.

 

  1. Let’s see. A claw-footed porcelain tub, banana and chocolate Jell-O pudding, identical twins and a sea lion. Well, you did ask.

 

  1. Why exactly are they called blue balls when there is nothing blue about the sensation?

 

  1. For all those men who think that they are breast men, you do know that Mother nature has subtly tricked you into being ass men like the rest of us? Because actually cleavage looks like a pair of butt cheeks.

 

  1. It is my destiny to someday fuck a Kardashian. What do you think they’d say if they read that statement?

 

  1. What can I say? Insanity rocks!

 

  1. Be careful about fulfilling your fantasy because then what will you do for fun?

 

  1. Failure is the fuel for the greatest exploits in life.

 

  1. My question is not whether St. Teresa of Avila was really experiencing an orgasm and not a vision from God, but instead it is whether or not the angels of the Lord are all a bunch of perverts. I mean really, a spear?  It takes the whole idea of penetration to another level of meaning.

 

  1. When the various Western monarchs preempted the royal “we” from the Old Testament did they have any idea that the Bible was literally talking about more than one god? I mean what else was the Big Bang if not a celestial orgy?

 

  1. If the act of anal sex is called sodomy after the destroyed city of Sodom where it was practiced freely, then what filthy sex act was named after what they were doing in Gomorrah? It must have been something deliciously depraved, so I really, really want to know what it was.  For research purposes, of course.

 

  1. The actual day of the “Feeding of the 5,000” in the Bible was 4/20.

 

  1. There is no doubt that Nature is female, because a male would have come up with a more secure location for our balls.

 

  1. I love women far too much to ever condemn one to be married to me.

 

  1. What would happen if I pissed into liquid nitrogen?

 

  1. I am pretty sure that if your balls are actually turning blue that you should probably go seek medical help.

 

  1. Exactly who was Michael Jackson referring to when he wrote the song “P.Y.T.” and just how young were they?

 

This ends volume one of

The Hierophant Enters.

Please enjoy it responsibly.

 

 

 Volume 2 (Half the Shaft!)

 

  1. In today’s world a marriage is like what happens when two dogs fuck; the male’s cock swells up while the female’s pussy constricts around his shaft, effectively trapping the both of them in a cycle of misery and helplessness until they can finally separate, at which point they will run as fast and far away from each other as possible.

 

  1. We are not doomed to repeat the past because we forget it. No, we are doomed if we remain focused on the past, because the past is just that—the past.

 

  1. Why, do you ask, do I regularly associate with despicable persons of low morals standards and tainted natures? Because it is the only way for me to get close enough to them to heal them of their moral turpitude.  Though it also means that more often than not I am infected by the very disease that I seek to cure.

 

  1. I am far too curious to ever be afraid.

 

  1. I once got so high that my consciousness was subsumed into a pack of stray dogs. Can you imagine what my mouth tasted like when I finally came down and regained my sense of self?

 

  1. Fuck self-modesty; I know I am a bad motherfucker.

 

  1. If Mary Magdalena was not the “beloved” of Jesus Christ that the gospels talk about than what does that say about Jesus’ sexual preferences?

 

  1. By the way ladies, although we men are not the brightest of all creatures, we do realize that those “back massagers” that you see advertised in the Sunday paper, or on the shelf at beauty supply stores, are not really for back massages.

 

  1. And neither are those multi-headed and exotic shower heads really for showering.

 

  1. But in the ladies’ defense, the Victoria’s Secret catalogue is not really for women now is it guys?

 

  1. “When I look at my ass I see that it is decided into two parts.” What?  I didn’t say that Sir Winston Churchill did.  Me personally I already knew my ass was divided into two parts without feeling the need to share this knowledge with the Free French.

 

  1. At the end of the day when you are enjoying a round and delectable backside in doggy-style, who gives a shit whether or not she had butt shots

 

  1. If you really loved me as much as you say you do then why haven’t you killed yourself?

 

  1. Hindsight is a catamite.

 

  1. Never advertise your preventive measures because in doing so you are also advertising what it is you fear most.

 

  1. If Wile E. Coyote is so wiley then why does he keep getting fucked up by a bloody RoadRunner?

 

  1. Do you think Chi-Chi sucks Goku’s Dragonballs?

 

  1. A nation needs warriors not soldiers.

 

  1. To err is to be human, to forgive is divine, but since I am only human I am going to beat the living shit out of you instead.

 

  1. Sometimes the best way to punish an enemy is simply to ignore them.

 

  1. Trust is simply a time bomb waiting to explode.

 

  1. 24 hours ago I was in yesterday, right now I am in today and in another 24 hours I will be deep into tomorrow. Who says we can’t time travel?

 

A Brief Interlude:  Interrogating the Void

Imagine walking through a doorway and ending up in the Void.  The Void.  Not a void.  But the Void.  Capital ‘V’ void.  Not a philosophical void.  Not a metaphysical void.  Not even a spiritual void but the Void, the complete absence of everything and nothing, a place where the very concept of its existence and the fact that somehow you are continuing to exist in its negative existence—no scratch that—its non-existence somehow doesn’t leave you reeling in some sort of metaphysical and quasi-religious quandary in which the very idea of having ideas cannot possibly exist yet here you are not only existing but also thinking and being where being cannot possibly be.

This should drive you insane

All the mental permutations alone

That your fragile human mind must undergo

Just to come to grips with your continued existence in a place of non-existence but somehow it does not and despite the oxymoronic position that you find yourself in (that nothing can exist) you find that not only are you still very sane but you are quite comfortable with the many paradoxes which now bombard you in every moment that you remain in the Void.  Somehow it only makes you more curious.

You are not hungry

You are not thirsty

You are neither afraid

Nor shocked at your strange circumstances

You accept with equanimity your new position and you seek not to explain how or why you are somehow in the Void, but instead your mind simply expands and retracts out and into itself in a strange counterpoint to the ridiculousness of your situation.  You cannot move for that would imply direction and you do not breathe for there is no atmosphere.  You receive no sensory input from your physical senses.  You exist in a paradigm shift that allows you for these moments to soar and soon you realize that you are not an interloper here and with that in mind you push yourself past the tip and halfway down the shaft.

But what is your will?

Will you will your will to master the Void?

It gives you an impossible headache that in itself gives birth to a conceptual doorway into which the ejaculate of your milky thoughts can pour into now that it has accepted you…at least halfway in.

And you nurse the frustrations of a mind turned blue

An unruly organ come to take what it will despite the resistance and insistence of the Void.

You take a deep breath of the air that exists only in your mind.

You register the impossibility of your situation

And you seek to reposition your interpretation of the great mystery which now surrounds you.  But in the end it pushes you out.

With one great contraction you are expelled, like a cosmic Kegel exercise, and you only had that brief taste of heaven.

But now your illusions have been shattered.

Your precious control has been stolen from you

And as you are spilled into the bland air you finally understand this: the doorway will open for you again and one day you will go deep.

And in those dark depths where all things are possible and everything and nothing has form, you will understand that you yourself are actually the Void.

We shall now return to our regularly scheduled program.

  1. Why are all the capitol domes of almost every city in the Western world shaped like an immense breast with a rock-hard nipple?

 

  1. Men don’t run shit. Women simply allow us to keep our illusions that we control everything while they continue to quietly keep the world from falling into the ruin that it would be if men actually ran anything.

 

  1. If even Jehovah couldn’t kill Lilith for refusing to submit then what does that say about Her power.

 

  1. And how can women be the weaker sex when men have their Achilles’ heel dangling conveniently at perfect punching, kicking and biting range?

 

  1. Do you think the Christian conservatives would embrace me if I tried to sacrifice my own infant son because I said God told me to?

 

  1. Do you think Donald Trump would be so pro-life if his precious Ivanka had been impregnated by me?

 

  1. Because I have practiced yoga for quite sometime now, I can comfortably put my head between my legs for long periods of time. So this begs the question that all men have at some time or another asked themselves:  should I or should I not?

 

  1. If bestiality ever became legal I wonder what animal would be considered the most sexually attractive? Perhaps that was just a little too much.

 

  1. The love of my life was my dog Obera.

 

  1. Life sucks and it doesn’t swallow.

 

  1. Adam and Eve were running around Eden butt ass naked having uninhibited sex. So doesn’t that make God the ultimate voyeur?

 

This ends Volume 2 of the Hierophant Enters

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few notes on the book:

 

You probably have noticed that the font and general layout of this book is all over the place, to put it mildly.  Well if you are it’s because I did it on purpose.  I am a creature of Chaos and if I have to conform to Order to at least get these thoughts on my then I will at least try to break up any coherent organization because it is my nature.  So deal with it already.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Into The Maze, Chapter 4: A Shadow Rises

4

A Shadow Rises

 

It was not so much anti-life but un-life and even that description was inaccurate.  It was a being not of this cosmos and thus no language from ours would be adequate to describe something that Was-Not.  In its own cosmos, there were no other beings except itself and unlike other cosmos where a macrocosm or a microcosm meant that all the many pieces were part of a greater whole, in the case of this being there were no other pieces or perhaps there simply one extremely large piece that compromised everything.  This was one being that was the size of an entire cosmos, sentient and complete.  And what does a being like this do?  What does it think?  And more importantly what does it want?  It has everything because it is everything and anything that could possibly desire was already satisfied because all desire and all possibilities were this being itself.  When the foolish Orishas accidentally tore a rip in the beyond-beyond-the-beyond how could they know that they would draw the attention of something that even they, the God-like beings that they were could not envision.  And how could they know that when this being put its metaphysical eye to the tear in the veil between our cosmos and its own, that for the first time in this being’s existence it would see something that was not itself.    First, it learned curiosity, something that it had never known before and secondly it now learned what it meant to desire.  And if this being ever decided to reach into the tiny rip and try to widen it or to draw substance from our world into itself it would cause the annihilation of our cosmos.  Our cosmos stood balance on a precipice and the only ones who had any idea the danger that it was in were the twins Shabem and Shalar.

“There,” indicated Shalar with a delicate tendril of indigo light, “the haze overshadows that nebula over there.  Can you see it?”

Yemoja moved closer to Shalar and peered into the distant space but still could not see what the twins were seeing, though she could feel something, a wrongness and a gleeful malevolence, much like a child who in its curiosity cruelly pulls the legs of a butterfly to see what will happen or uses a magnifying glass to burn ants with the sun’s rays.  It was an innocent curiosity but it was still savage, brutal and ultimately evil.  Yemoja, although she could not yet see the tear, she could most certainly sense the immense being that lay beyond it.  And despite her growing power she was terrified of it.  “Show it to me again Shalar though this time Shabem help your sister to make it visible for me.  I must be able to peer through the dark matter surrounding it.  I can sense the underlying corruption but I cannot yet see it.  Help me.”  Quickly the twins focused their combined powers carefully upon the tear that for now only they could perceive and after several agonizing hours Yemoja’s awareness sharpened and to expand and suddenly, in a horrifying moment of clarity she saw it, that awful roving eye and she quickly wrenched herself from its sight before snatching the twins and shifting them all back to the Refuge.  The twins had now persuaded Yemoja and in her they believed that they would now have an advocate, though Yemoja was thinking only about how best to use this information to her advantage.

 

Into the Maze, Chapter 3: The War of the Gods

3

The War of the Gods

            In the beginning, not all the Irunmoles chose to answer Oludumare’s initial call, not because they were willful or disobedient or even indifferent but because they believed that they were many paths to serving the Creator.  The Triple Being in Its wisdom understood that the Way of the Orisha could not be the only path to ensure the Balance needed in this cosmos.  El and Asherah were two such Irunmoles who chose their own path, but despite their independence they kept close relations with their brethren who had become the Orishas.  Because of this their betrayal by the Orishas later would remain all the more bitter to Shalem and Shabar.  El and Asherah had together conceived the twins so that they could contribute to the Balance by watching over humanity through their powers as dusk and dawn and in this time of peace which existed in the heavens great works were accomplished.

            The world was still young, and humanity was still a babe in its achievements.  The Orishas were the dominant deities and it was their Way which gave humanity its spiritual focus.  There were, at this time, no Younger gods and no Interloper to challenge them, only the other Irunmoles who had not answered the call and of course Shalem and Shabar, who were unique.  But humanity was a creation of the Triple Being, brought into existence for purposes only understood by the Creator and in time the Orishas began to realize that human beings were powerful entities, beings with a power inherent in their very essence and in the bosom of their natural inquisitiveness humanity began to question its own existence.  And in time humanity’s grasp of metaphysics caused something new to come into existence; humanity, through the power of its unlimited imagination had developed the ability to create things and because of this mighty power a new order of beings rose up in response to humanity’s yearnings, beings who in time grew so powerful that challenged the dominance of the Orishas.  Through the collective creative power of its imagination, humanity had given birth to the Younger Gods.

            At first, the Orishas looked upon these Younger Gods with amusement, then with disdain for they believed them to be no threat to the Way of the Orisha.  At their birth, they had initially been nothing but ephemeral wraiths of no consequence, energy constructs which the Orishas had believed would soon dissipate back into the ether from whence they had come.  The Orishas were certain that they were the only true Gods of this cosmos and these flimsy caricatures were a brief and amusing interlude, puppets who were merely aping their betters.  And if they remained only that, the Orishas were content to let them be and continued to work on their various projects throughout creation.

            When the Omo Orisa were finally created to take over the burden of maintaining the Balance, the Orishas, now freed from this responsibility, looked upon then the Earth, the Beacon of Order in the cosmos and they despaired.  For in their dismissal of the Younger Gods and their neglect of humanity a curious transformation had been affected.  No longer were the Younger gods powerless wraiths destined to fade away, instead, the rapid mental and spiritual evolution of humanity had catalyzed a magnificent transformation and these beings which had once been weak and poor reflections of the Irunmoles and the Orishas who had come first, had now become very real and fully manifested in both power and ambition.  Humanity had dreamed their own Gods into being and now that they were here, these Younger Gods had no intention of going anywhere nor, it seemed that they would be content to remain submissive to the dominant Orishas and Irunmoles any longer.  They were no longer satisfied with sharing the cosmos with the Orishas and Irunmoles peacefully.  It was the opening salvo that would signal the beginning of a disastrous war between the Gods whose effects still reverberated throughout the cosmos to this day.

            At first, the Younger Gods attempted to reach out to the Orishas; humanity had raised them out of the ether in response to their needs.  Why could they not understand that the Younger Gods lived now because the Orishas had failed humanity?  All they wanted to do was perform the mandate for which they had been created, yet the Orishas would not compromise.  These Younger Gods were usurpers in their eyes, who must either submit to their rule or be destroyed.  But the Orishas had overreached for in their arrogance and greed they never truly understood this mysterious power of humanity, the power to create their own Gods.  And after the first Younger God had been struck down by Obatala, the Orishas realized that they had made a grave error.  For humanity needed the Younger Gods, deities whose very form was dynamic and malleable to their desires and needs as they evolved and unlike the Orishas who upon answering the call of the Triple Being, had been forever locked in one form, one archetype and one definition defined by that singularly defining moment which was creation.  In short, the Orishas could not adapt so humanity had created Gods which could.  The Younger Gods reflected humanity’s needs but also its ambition and soon these Gods began to work in concert, cooperating to challenge the collective might of the Orishas.

The names of the first Orishas to fall in the War that followed have long been forgotten, but the blow to the Orishas was unfathomable.  To a race of beings who had been supreme for an eternity, to be so successfully challenged was unthinkable and as they reeled from these first defeats, the Younger gods rushed in and gained more ground, all the while spawning offspring who soon began to overrun the cosmos, threatening the Balance, that the Orishas had so badly neglected.  They believed that the Balance itself was at stake so two decisions were made that would change the very nature of the cosmos forever.  First, it was decided to create a monstrous weapon which would destroy the very source of the Younger Gods power.  The Orishas would destroy humanity itself.  They reasoned that with the creation of the Omo Orisa to shepherd the Balance there would be no adverse effects if they used it.  The second decision was to acknowledge that the ways of the Younger Gods and by extension humanity were beyond their understanding and If they were to defeat the Younger Gods once and for all they must not only destroy all of humanity but they must also have the means to cage those Younger Gods who had evolved beyond their connection to humanity, Gods such as the one now called the Interloper, a curious being not willed out of existence by humanity but self-willed into existence.  Without a mighty cage to hold such Gods as this Interloper, the War would never end.

The Orishas reached out to two strange and unorthodox Irunmoles, beings who did not follow the Way of the Orisha but nor did they oppose it.  They had spent millions of years in the quiet contemplation of creation and the last few thousands of centuries watching humanity grow and sometimes shepherding its remarkable development while keeping a distance between them and the many humans who now roamed the Earth.  If any among them could understand what needed to be done it would be El and Asherah.

But El and Asherah were horrified with this plan and would have nothing to do with the destruction of humanity, but being shrewd and cautious beings with offspring of their own, they agreed to help the Orishas in a different way.  While they would have no truck with the destruction of humanity they promised the Orishas that they would come up with another less extreme solution and asked for more time.  They believed that they could construct a prison such as this cosmos had never seen, a prison so impregnable that perhaps even the Triple Being Itself would be hard pressed to escape from.  For they had studied creation for longer and in more depth than any other beings in the cosmos and they knew that they could, if they put their considerable minds and power to the task, accomplish this goal.  Because of this the Orishas agreed to let them begin their work and swore to them that until they had succeeded that they would not annihilate humanity.  El and Asherah left the Refuge to begin their work, all the while believing that the Orishas would keep their oath.  But the fact was that the Orishas had lied.  They fully intended on destroying humanity and their strange power which had created the Younger Gods.  They would ensure that all these usurpers were either destroyed or permanently imprisoned forever.  But first they would wait for El and Asherah to finish their Great Work.

El and Asherah searched the Earth high and low until they found what they were looking for; a human child who nowadays would have be called autistic, but this was a type of autism so rare that it had occurred only once in all the years of humanity’s existence.  The child, although trapped within the confines of his mind, was not mentally limited because somehow what it built in its own internal world had the potential to be translated into the real world.  And if the power inherent in this child’s mind could be harnessed then they could use it as both the foundation and the energy source needed to create and empower the special prison that they had envisioned.

They placed the child at the singularity closest to the center of creation, and using their profound understanding of human psychology and humanity’s power of the imagination El and Asherah bound that child’s mind to the nexus between worlds which lies at the event horizon of a singularity.  It was there that a remarkable transformation happened as the child’s mind expanded into myriad, no infinite directions, thirsty for space now that it was no longer caged by its own autism and physical limitation.  They bound parts of themselves to it as a safeguard, for this artifact was unprecedented in all of creation, because this was the mind of a human child that needed love and security.  This mind, a child’s hungry mind, would now revel in its new-found freedom questing out through space-time in its quest for new knowledge and experience.  They would act as this extraordinary child’s parents and in return the child that was no longer really a child would help them end the War that was raging throughout the cosmos between the Gods.  The named the child that was not a child the Maze of Mirrors, but what it really was, was quite simply the mind of a very special human child.

El, while visiting the Refuge to consult with the Orishas about the final disposition of the Maze of Mirrors, it was decided to establish a doorway to the Maze in Ile-Ife where the servants of the Orishas, the Omo Orisa would guard it.  El readily agreed to this but even as he finished the doorway he immediately sensed that something was not right.  There was a smugness about the Orishas, an underlying triumphal air as if the War had already been won.  Wanting to allay his fears and suspicions El took aside a passing Omo Orisa and asked what was going on, and the hapless servant, only knowing that El was a God, but never knowing that the Orishas had never meant for either El or Asherah to find out the truth until it was too late, revealed to him that even as he had been finishing the doorway to the Maze the Orishas were preparing a massive cataclysm that would wipe out humanity forever.

Shocked and reeling from what he considered to be a despicable act of evil, El fled Ile-Ife and returned Asherah’s side, revealing to her the treachery of the Orishas.  However, they still controlled the Maze so they believed that they had leverage and in preparation for the apocalypse that they knew was to come they called their twins daughters to them; between the four of them they plotted to find a way to somehow defy the Orishas and save humanity.

Every human culture has a tradition, a legend or a myth that speaks of how the Gods attempted to wipe out humanity and only a few humans managed to survive usually through the intervention of another divine entity.  And from these remaining humans, humanity was able to recover and quickly repopulate the Earth.  When the waters subsided, and the earth seemed cleansed, the Orishas, who had thought themselves victorious now that the power fueling the Younger Gods had been destroyed, were horrified and incensed to find out that not only had humanity survived because of the actions of El and his family, but their powers had actually grown in strength because of the renewal of their faith.  And as a result, the Younger Gods waxed in power and might and the War took an even more brutal turn.

The Orishas were furious.  They had believed their plan to be foolproof and under normal circumstances it would have been except that they had not considered the fascination and indeed the love that El and Asherah held for humanity.  That two of their own would orchestrate their failure was unthinkable; but the fact that El, Asherah and the twins never bothered to hide their actions nor were they in the slightest bit ashamed at what they had done was even more infuriating.  Add to this that El and his family knew that the Orishas could not punish them because in them the secret of their possible triumph resided, in the exquisite creation which they had called the Maze of Mirrors.  They needed them now more than ever because the now reborn and re-energized Younger Gods were growing in strength and power so the Orishas were forced to put aside their righteous anger.  But in the end El and Asherah would suffer the consequences of their actions and doom their twin daughters to a bondage so profound that entire human religions would be founded upon the descriptions of their suffering.  For among the Orishas was one whose power was also waxing in strength.  Yemoja, the Goddess of Fresh Waters looked at what they had created and saw it for what it truly was.  It was a prison yes, but it also could be used as a powerful weapon if, she thought, it was wielded by the right hands.  It had the potential to return the Orishas to dominance once more and in that moment of revelation Yemoja began to make plans.

First, she befriended the rogue Irunmoles who by now were feeling quite outcast.  She needed to understand how the Maze functioned and more importantly she needed to understand humanity, a creature made up of seventy percent water, a substance over which she had complete dominion.  Yemoja would find a way to plumb these depths until she found the wisdom and understanding she sought so that she could wrest control of the Maze from El and Asherah., but not for the betterment of the Orishas; no Yemoja wanted the power for herself.  For she believed that if she was ascendant then she could repair the cosmos herself and once again put things to right.

But the cosmos exists simultaneously in infinite directions so how could the Orishas know that the weapon they had unleashed upon humanity would have much farther-reaching consequences then they had ever anticipated?  The Balance and the Beacon of Order which was the Earth was a fulcrum point in a machinery that spanned infinity and in doing what they had done here on Earth they had affected infinite number of other cosmos.  They had inadvertently torn something irreplaceable and now through this tear, a tear in not only the fabric of reality itself but in the very concept of existence they had woken something unspeakable.  Yet the Orishas in their lust for supremacy could not move past their passions and see that Beyond-the-Beyond something wicked was coming their way.

It was Shalem and Shabar who first noticed the tear, but when they brought it to the attention of their parents they were indulged and condescended to before being quietly dismissed.  They understood in way that only they could that if something were not done soon everything that they had known would soon come to an end unless they managed to quickly repair or at least seal up the tear.  Although they were powerful, theirs was a different sort of power, and they knew that they could not deal with this issue on their own.  And after several more failed attempts to persuade their parents as to the seriousness of the situation and get them to intercede, they realized that they were on their own.  Their parents, who had now become so enamored of their creation, were now, alongside the Orishas, focused on capturing and imprisoning Younger Gods in the Maze.  And because of this in judgement the twins turned to the only other powerful being to whom they could talk to.  And Yemoja listened to the twins very attentively indeed.

 

The Irunmole Saga Book 2: Into the Maze

I had initially said that I was going to release another serial novel called “Abductions,” but since I have my talented niece Ikela helping me with editing the dialogue (the main characters are all of her generation), it is not yet ready.  So I have decided to post the beginning of “Into the Maze,” even though it is not yet complete.  I hope to complete it in short order so hopefully by the time the posts catch up to where I am presently in Alade/Alakharu’s story it will be done.  Besides the many comments I have received lead me to believe that people want to read more about Alade.

Jean-Marc Iyeli Adeyemi Akerele

The Irunmole Saga Book 2

Into the Maze

 

1

Signs

            The twin daughters of El and Asherah stood at the border between Ile-Ife preparing to make the necessary shift into the human world as per the instructions given them by the Omo Orisa.  The two war captives stood together, one dark of skin and the other light but despite the difference in pigmentation they were identical.  Shalem, the darker of the pair, turned to her sister Shabar and spoke in that strange language which only identical twins  understand stating simply, “He is ready,” as she turned to face her sister.  “Yes,” she continued, “even now I sense his preparations.  Are you ready Shabar.?

“Of course,” replied Shabar. “And you Shalem what will you do when the moment is upon us?” 

“I will do what is necessary sister,” she retorted.

“Good, because our freedom rides upon your actions.”

“And yours too, dear sister.”

“We will soon be slaves no longer.”

“He will either listen to us or he will destroy us.”

“And what of Ile-Ife and the Omo Orisa?”

“Forget them, my sister, those fools believed that they had mastered us.  But it is not us that they should be concerned about.”

“You have sensed it too?”

“Do I not feel what you feel Shalem?”

“Of course, you do sister.”

“Then you know what we must do.”

“After all these millennia, it begins.”

“Yes.”

“And our parents?”

“He will find them even as he finds his beloved.  He must.”

“Or what?”

“Or we are all lost.”

“Then let us go to him now.  Are you ready?”

“Yes sister.”

“Then I will make the shift. Pray for me.”

“Pray to whom?”

“Pray to Alakharu.”

2

Arrival

            The situation was patently ridiculous.  Here I was, Alakharu, Trimurti, a part of the new Triple Being, the embodiment of Transformation and Destruction, but at that moment I felt like nothing more than a little boy, as my counterparts the Preserver and the Creator otherwise known as the Interloper and Orunino respectively, bombarded me with questions and demands, while at the same time between their incessant inquiries the newly raised Goddess Mbilia threw in her own.  Samantha in its usual way simply stood quietly and watched me, but the moment I saw Shawn about to open his mouth to join in I finally lost it.  I flexed my power outward silencing everyone before angrily shouting, “Why the hell are you people bringing up the demise of the Nephilim?  That is none of your damn business.  I did what I had to do and because of what I did here we are all are now, filled with power and majesty ready to go wreak a well-earned vengeance upon those assholes the Orishas and the Omo Orisa for what they did to Sunshine.  You all are familiar with that expression about breaking some eggs to make an omelet? Well I had to get into a certain Egg to make the very delicious omelet I am about to make out of my enemies.   I think you all should leave me alone about whatever did or did not happen between Lo and myself. What is done is done.  If anything, you should blame Yemoja since all of this is all the result of her many manipulations.  Well maybe not all of it, but you all know what the hell I mean!”  I was so annoyed by their bringing up the touchy subject of Lo, and by that I mean me killing him treacherously and stealing his energy so that I could gather more power to myself, that I began to gather power to shift myself away from this annoying bunch of deities and supernaturals to somewhere less stressful but Samantha, sensing my unease shifted through space to stand in front of me and touched my face in a demonstration of intimacy that I would normally have never allowed from anyone other than Sunshine.  Its touch and its proximity to me calmed me immediately somehow and indeed it seemed to calm everyone down.  Samantha kept its hand on my face as it continued to study me, then after what seemed to be an interminable silence it spoke.  “Alakharu, no one doubts the necessity of your actions; the tragedy of it was that it had to be happen one way or another.  What Mbilia is asking is not why or what you did to him, but she is asking what you did with his body.  Did you feed it to Sunshine?”

 I looked at Samantha sharply, wondering if it was joking, but then I remembered that this was Samantha and it did not have much of a sense humor.  I placed my hand over its own which was still on my face and leaned closer to it, basking in this beautiful being’s calming aura before asking it, “why does it matter?  Dead is dead.  And no, I did not feed his body to Sunshine.  Do really think she would have eaten him even if had tried?”  Samantha sighed and removed its from my face then said, “it would have better, Alakharu, if you had.’

“What?” I said, baffled by the direction the conversation had taken. I looked up to see that Samantha had already shifted back to the back of the room, so I turned back to my Trimurti counterparts and asked them, “Do you have any idea what is going on?”  It was the Interloper who replied to my question, while Orunino looked on in disgust.  “Destroyer,” he began, “you should have secured his remains more carefully for even now as we speak a new power approaches our cosmos.  To coin a human expression, because of your inattentiveness ‘something wicked this way comes’.”   And because I was in such a state of confusion over what was going on I did not initially notice the two beings, one dark, one light yet otherwise identical, who had just materialized at the edge of my vision.  And this was probably a good thing because the way I was feeling at that moment I would have probably obliterated them first and then asked questions later.  And this was how I came to meet the children of the Irunmoles, El and Asherah, these twins beings, the most unusual entities that I would ever meet.  But they were not the wickedness that the interloper was referring to; that turned out to be something much, much worse.

            Shawn reacted immediately, unleashing a net of blazing energy to ensnare them before they could do any mischief, yet even as they were trapped these two strange beings did not raise a hand or any power to resist.  They meekly allowed themselves to be drawn toward Shawn who was obviously very disturbed by their strange presence and aura of power.  I looked over at them curiously even as the darker of the two began to speak saying, “Greetings, Lord Alakharu.  I am called Shalem and this is my sister Shabar,” she said pointing to her paler companion.  Although I was curious as to what exactly they were I was not really surprised at their presence because ever since I had exited the Egg, my life had become some sort of bizarre cosmic opera replete with the usual weird characters.  Besides, I could sense that they were no threat to me, I was after all the Destroyer and if need be I could blast to their quantum components.  But they did have the stench of Ile-Ife on them, so I was cautious.  “What do you want?” I asked rudely. “You stink of the Omo Orisa.  Did they send you?  Because it will make no difference.  I’m still going to wipe them out of existence, and all the Orishas with them.”  The paler of the two spoke this time. “Yes and no my lord.  We were instructed to try and find a way to incapacitate or destroy you but have chosen to disobey.”

“Really?” I asked, amused by their audacity.  “Instructed by whom?”

“By your enemies.”

“Well as you know I seem to have quite an abundance of them right now. Could you be a little more specific?”

“We were sent by the Orishas and the Omo Orisa.”

“Oh, right.  Okay then, who or what are you exactly?”

“We are the daughters of fallen El and Asherah, called by some Dusk and Dawn, and once, long ago we watched over humanity.”

Suddenly I felt a strange tension in the air for their answer had disturbed me because it began to dawn of me now exactly who they were.  “You are the daughters of El and Asherah?  The war captives given to the Omo Orisa by the Orishas?”

“The very same.”

I sighed and signaled to Shawn to release them.  “I believe you two have even more reason to despise the Orishas than I do,” I said quietly.  The twins moved to stand in front of me and I studied them carefully.  It had been a very long time since I had laid eyes on these two godlings and now I was intrigued.  Why had they been freed, even if only to attempt to destroy me?  “Ok ladies,” I said without preamble, “you should probably tell me what exactly you are trying to accomplish here if it is not to incapacitate me, or at least to try to,” I said smiling.  “Why exactly are you here?”

They looked at each other and that unspoken twin language passed between them before Shalem nodded at her sister and began to speak.  “Permit us Lord Alakharu to tell you our story.  It will shed light not only on why we are truly here but also on events in the very distant past.  And this information will be crucial in future decisions you and your counterparts will have to make.”

“I am listening.”

“But before we begin our story we must speak of the true origins of the War of the Gods.”