He was once was, is, and will be. The stench of his sins mixed with remy. His understanding of the Stars is non existent. Forever wanting to be in the light and create some distance. For the love of God, let's call it Allah. With the Morning Star, the Eclipse, viewed from the harbor.
Dictated by King Paimon, the Moon God Sin, from Sirius back to Aquila, they rise like the Hen. Jinn like beings, they want one thing. They'll work together involving your big bright brain. Set ablaze, they will see, the Kaaba, something like Saudi Arabian Peace. In love, from then on, the Mark of The Beast.
Back from the past, Lemuria is what we shall seek. Back in Atlantean times when sorcery was at its peak. His law like nature, it will fail. Seeking the Kaaba, all the way to Hell.
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