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Now I confer upon myself sovereignty over the artifice of language, that
the Other may possess sight of the path along which I lead my thralls.

Toward Amaranth! O Deathless City! Whence my cloven-hoofed children dream
themselves into being.

Hear Mamon! Their beneficent Father! He who is wrought of his own dream
stuff.

Amaranthine Mamon. Amaranthine Father. Amaranthine dream.

inscrutable ramblings
inscrutable ramblings
inscrutable ramblings
inscrutable ramblings

Yet feast upon the goat hearts!