lore
Flaming the Green Faerie
He soaks his cube in Brandy,
Keeping his special spoon handy.
Then Flames upon flames,
Igniting the cube is a dandy.
A drink for the fiend
Tis Bohemian Green,
The chalice, The Glass, the tincture.
Sugar cube in,
The louche begins
And the fairy swims in the nectar.
Drink if you dare to be merry,
Nothing like sipping a Sherry.
For when you cook the Absynthe right
You’ll be a fool of the Faerie.
Satire on Justice
Satyre on Justice
Abdul Alhazred
Alhazred was born in Yemen,
Traveling in the known world;
Amassing lore and legend,
And the tales of the fiends.
A writer and a poet,
He was educated much.
Geometry, algebra, Alchemy
And magickal incantations' need.
From the cup of occult knowledge
He drank deep...
Driving a normal person
To madness or beyond.
Alhazred was once a normal man,
With desires like we all can.
He was Arab by birth,
With a pale skin in rebirth.
Being labeled the mad,
As he was once a dad.
But had to eat his child,
By the King of the Palace's might.
He wrote down the Necronomicon,
In more than one song...
The obscure, the forgotten,
The suppressed, the rotten.
Never meant to be read;
It causes insanity with speed.
Not interpreted rationally,
The thoughts cause a rally.
Alhazred was insane,
By the lore he learned within.
But he wrote clear,
With many a tear.
The state of the Universe,
In reality suspense;
Plaything of mad gods at best,
Sewer of evil in the north, south, east, west.
Humans dare not dream of this,
For their peaceful lives they cannot miss.
A warning and guide this book is,
And by the Djinns you do wish.
Alhazred died, not a mystery,
It is written in history.
In the marketplace,
He was erased.
By the Demon from beyond,
Who wanted him gone.
Blood upon the sand,
There he was banned.
In broad daylight,
With many a sight.
He meddled with evil things,
With beings with wings.
He is now dead,
After he bled...