THE PROMISED CHILD

O my brother C. S. Jones
We solomnly pray over your bones.
For you have given us the Key to The Book
By the Oath of destruction that you took.
You made of yourself an empty space
For the benefit of the human race.
You filled that void with the Promised One;
You filled it with the Beast's own Son.
All that was you you were willing to kill
So that the Child could do his Will.
But when the Work was so briefly done
You considered yourself the Magical Son!
Dear Frater Achad, our beloved One,
When the Child had withdrawn your insanity had begun.
You fell to the depths and thought them the Heights;
Upon total reversal you set your sights.
But walking backwards can only lead
To trees returning unto seed.
And thus you reached not unto heaven,
But added to your sins the sin of Regression.
We still praise you O fallen star
For the Key that you've given us has taken us far.
And we know that your fall was but a step on the Path,
Though you'd fallen by the Vengence of the God of Wrath.
Some day in the future, quite distant from now,
We are sure that your next life won't end so foul;
For you have paid your dues, and finished your debt,
Satisfying Horus, Harpocrates and Set.
And we may be seeing you at the end of this Age
As Maat's prophet, teacher and sage.
But the Work of this Æon is not yet done;
We wait for the return of the Magical Son.
There is more to be said, and more to be done,
For the Work of the Child has hardly begun.
There is dissention in the Temple, disorder in the ranks,
And for the Work of Adjustment we will heartily give thanks!
So come again Son of the Beast so wild.
Come unto us O Promised Child!
Save us from our fate so ghoulish.
Save us from ourselves so foolish.