Gnostic Warriors of Death

We guard the gates to eternity. The common cannot penetrate our secrecy, while the secrecy worshiped by the rest is hidden from these the same. We trace this secrecy back to origin, and therein lies the foundation of our ways. They have no clue of our ways, so must be happy with the descriptions given to them by third hand accounts of others.

If you are an initiate, you will know that nothing comes for free, much less so the divine light. The light already burns inside you a great desire to die for the cause if need be. But there are no Romans here to crucify you!

Even so, what trials you must still face! Pains that will squeeze your heart like a giant wringing a lemon. A desolation that will engender hopelessness, despite your sincerity. And more and so on that you do not want to hear about. Few can come through these and reach the other side, but those that do will know power and favor. At its height, you cannot do wrong, even if you try. If you do wrong in error, your errors tower over their “good.”

If this is not for you, your will must be turned outward. What are you waiting for? Glory beckons at the mouth of warfare yet you sit idle, looking for definite answers to open ended questions. The skewered heads of wrongdoers is what you want to see. The blood of the unrighteous is what you crave. Yet bloodlust is the path to calamity.

We would lick this blood from our swords, only to spit it out, for we are not beasts, but men. We do not do this for pleasure but we receive pleasure even if we do not ask for it. Whatever our venture, surely we would defeat them if they oppose us, for they are but cowards.

They have forgotten already those who may have died or killed for them in this manner, but they would kill innocents in the name of greed. We would drown them, whence they would know the meaning of death. We would resuscitate them to drown them again, whence they would know the meaning of life.

We could do all of this if we willed, but we do not because we are right and true. They must call us names, lay down trivial accusations when they see something they dislike, or try to kill us if they can, but they are too weak. We can only smile at these, as they smile when we announce favor, and these smiles are of the joy reflected from this favor.

The orders of so called orthodoxy mean nothing to us. We would spit on them, but we do not wish to waste our saliva, which is as manna from above. We do not need to curse them because they curse themselves with error, wrongdoing, and idolatry. If others believe in nothing, they must admit that their God is death, and what a base God this is, whose only gift is time, and whose only mercy is retrieval of that gift. From the height of this precipice, how dare we wield the powers of life and death? We could if we willed, and if still they are not true, we take their brief candle, and simply snuff it out.

 

 

August 5, 2015