Eritis sicut Deus, bonum et malum.

[alchemew]

were on this night, of ill's repent
I find myself alone once more spent
through the toil & cherish of friendly gaze
while these suns turn to moons, and nights to day

I hope only for a wanton caressed
of a fate which leaves me unmolested
directions true, though blasphemous
I seek to give form to our silent guests

with glass in hand, and liquid before
what could one seek but to implore
the building blocks, we sought to score
another chance, to redeem our lore

gaze of spirits, seek me not
this night's terrors will soon be forgot
and passed as dreams, mere escapes of thought
fruits which under grasp would rot