Tolvmaskemal The Lay Of Twelve Masks

I bear foulness unknown to the wife of the king or to any son of man;
Masks unfit for the face of the All-wise.
And so I cast them off.

Greed is the first, waxing fat.
The fat grub in the marrow of the tree.

A second I know that should be known
Indifference it is named.
Turning cold shoulders to kith and kin.

A third I know, if need be,
Narcissism thrown forth.
The faint smile of the flesh, blinded by adoration.

A fourth I know:
Self-destruction cast out.
The baresark rage, the burning fire.

A fifth I know: I see it hurled
Cynicism by name;
Sharp teeth in the throat of hope.

A sixth skin I shed:,
Cowardice,
The rabbit heart in the hunter's chest.

The seventh I tear loose,
Hubris sent fly,
The weight of brassy dreams drags down.

The eighth I shed
Masochism, tongues cry
The flesh cries to blood, and the heart to loss.

The ninth that I rend,
Blasphemy by name,
Voices against worship, voices against brother.

A tenth I am loosing,
Malaise is called;
Limb-slackener, heart-weakener.

Eleventh I claw forth,
Decadence on lips
The rule of the flesh over the spirit.

Twelfth I bid go,
Rapine on teeth,
Destruction wrought in blood and bone.

Now is rent the High One's visage in the High One's name
The earth is strewn with masks,
Our faces upturned to the sky,
Hall Him who tore loose! Hall Him who cast down!
Pity those sent below!