I walk among this pantheon to gather up the stars.
Blessing the waxing moon, and swallowing up the sun.
For I foretell the coming God, ascending Heaven, descending Hell.
For I will be a gracious king, and the eve shall be my bounty.
So it is written, so it shall be done.
The falling of father, the falling of sun.
Canticle
de Morgion
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