A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)

The serpent dips his head beneath the sea

His mother, source of all his energy

Eternal, thence to draw the strength he needs

On earth to do indomitable dees

Once more; and they, who saw but understood

Naught of his nature of beatitude

Were awed: they murmured with abated breath;

Alas the Master; so he sinks in death.

But whoso knows the mystery of man

Sees life and death as curves of one same plan.

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