The Archaic Myth

"Long live Lilith, the Archwhore, the Harlot Goddess. She is the manifold shapeshifter whom does not exist, but remains hidden in the labyrinths of lost lore and archaic myth. She is a passing whisper of an old wives’ tale, and barely remembered in an arcane tongue. She is a tide of madness and heart’s decay moaning on the wind, a zephyr causing fevers, night sweats, and love’s death. She is a ghost in the desert, a vision of a woman loving serpents and scorpions, a phantom blowing kisses and centuries of sandstorms. She is a blurred glimmer, a mirage among a distant pack of jackals. She is, sometimes, something seemingly amiss and somehow ominous about a family of hyenas. She is a shadow cast by nothing, a shadow flitting over the Earth as the crow flies, and making expectant mothers beneath her passing bleed and miscarry by stirring the unborn to die of nightmare and fright. She is an amethyst susurrus scurrying by night through the trees, and taunting sleeping dogs and murder victims to howl with frenzy at the scent of her breeze. She is a thief of breath, semen and slumbering children; a maker of magiks and untold diableries on man and woman. She is a haunter of the wedding bed, where her presence ruins the seed of consummations to raise up into cruel creatures that only appear human." The Harlot Goddess

“Long live Lilith, the Archwhore, the Harlot Goddess. She is the manifold shapeshifter whom does not exist, but remains hidden in the labyrinths of lost lore and archaic myth. She is a passing whisper of an old wives’ tale, and barely remembered in an arcane tongue. She is a tide of madness and heart’s decay moaning on the wind, a zephyr causing fevers, night sweats, and love’s death. She is a ghost in the desert, a vision of a woman loving serpents and scorpions, a phantom blowing kisses and centuries of sandstorms. She is a blurred glimmer, a mirage among a distant pack of jackals. She is, sometimes, something seemingly amiss and somehow ominous about a family of hyenas. She is a shadow cast by nothing, a shadow flitting over the Earth as the crow flies, and making expectant mothers beneath her passing bleed and miscarry by stirring the unborn to die of nightmare and fright. She is an amethyst susurrus scurrying by night through the trees, and taunting sleeping dogs and murder victims to howl with frenzy at the scent of her breeze. She is a thief of breath, semen and slumbering children; a maker of magiks and untold diableries on man and woman. She is a haunter of the wedding bed, where her presence ruins the seed of consummations to raise up into cruel creatures that only appear human.” The Harlot Goddess   Damnation Books

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