Tonight the mortals had no charm for the moon. Tonight was not a time for poetry, love and anything which veiled the gruesome truth of life. No Love, No attachment, Absolute peace, Divine Liberation. The night let loose her wild dance, naked, and ripped off the moon from its place. It was the time to breastfeed her children.
Under the veil of tonight’s darkness, there were grins of victory, there were hails of praise in total submission, there were cries of madness and there were sighs of hopelessness. Time stood still. The pitch darkness gagged and squeezed everyone’s throat, until they gasped and choked out their love for the flesh.
The Goddess has conceived. She needs blood.
In the darkness, a silhouette wriggled its bound body. Roars of drums and cymbals snatched away its last perception. Over it, hanged its death, threshold to life, sharp and shining. It shuddered, exercising its senses for the last time. There’s no escape, it was its own choice; to enter the Intangible.