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Righteousness In Beautythere is a pentagramand now the stone is gone the whole heaven is black the blackness of a mighty angel his face and his wings and his rove and his armour all black blow all your trumpets for I will loose my hands from the mouth of the lion and his roaring shall enkindle the worlds I am he that swallowed up death and victory like the ash of dried leaves the worlds are blown before me let the stars burn in the fire of my nostrils let the god and the spirits and the demons and the angels be as motes dancing in the beam of my eye is is hell unquenchable bondslave of the curse we give nothing we take all |