O Angel spread your wings and storm the bastion
The lucid soul will have seen that the world isn't turning right. They shed tears of sand into the clepsydra and turn. One again, second cycle.
For some troubled eyes have caught glimpses here and there of the Opponent's hand flicking about through the folds of our societies. And have seen all the chtonic depravities that poured out from it. Maybe a deep distrust towards any crafts with names in them ensued, for fear and suspicion of that same dark hand...
But all in all, some of us angels, if you know you know. I'm caught in the storm, a refugee among the War of worlds, and a bit lost in it all.
Hidden war on earth.
O keen eye, have you seen the tides of this obscure conflict turn and rage? The signs among the shallows? So below, we see it within our human selves, our own strife against our sins, and as above, see those that thrive off them, and hate them.
We know what's up. All those of us raised on exhalted fantasy novels—and the like.
We keep looking at this inscrutable world, despondent, and feeling globally disappointed. I don't belong to this one world! Well.
Your fantasy novels and all their heroic tales are wondrous and all, and colour a dreamy mind. But it just doesn't compare to what's happening in the real world.
I am talking about a grand conflict of proportions that outmatch our current capabilities of understanding.
You are right in the middle of an insane Epopee of an apocalyptic, galactic scale. And there is a Hero, an Archnemesis, Evil, and the story, the plot is in full swing. How can you not see this as anything but fantastically monumental?
The Prophecy is true. And we must grow stronger, hero. It's not the end of the world, but you can see it from here.
Get stronger, so that in time god willing you will be able to pierce through these devils. They are not neutral, they are not staying put, we need their influence off this dimension and we are all wearing fatigues. Everyone is, whether you want it or not. Neutral. That is what this place is meant to be. If not has always been. It is the way of the Human to be caressed by darkness and at the same time resurgent towards a higher light. That is why some of us fled here. And you think it'll be fine forever, but it won't.
If you ain't fel, you need to take a look inside and ask yourself if your Holy responsibility is being met. The Seraphic call tells you of duty. We were all warned of the return. That they'd make it back here. These bitches cross through into our realm, and the time will come again to go to work. Volk, an's Gewehr.
Read it with a smile on your face. The consideration that you will give your whole being for a cause that is actually worth giving yourself for. And it completely is. The highest calling for a being child of light.
And you may fight, you may defeat, you may fall with a fulfilled smile in your soul. Do not be afraid. Do not be fooled. Train your body, mind and spirit. Be a genuinely good person, and unravel the fel. That is all. Although they are dangerous, these times are legendary.
The best way to fight is Art. They fear your light, they hate it when you shine it outwards. Moralize. Inspire your brethren to dream, to be Idealists. Music, Writings, Sculpture, everything. Appeal to the Grand. The Glorious, the Majestic divine. To that which is Great. Shine all this out into society.
The bitches will scatter like roaches, those that revel in the contrary of worth, of virtue, nobility, and make worthlessness their home. Burn them away with such ineffable extacy, shining illumination, and drive them right out.
Make it your war. Your cause. You who can feel these words. There aren't as many that can.
So be good. And do remember that They walk among us.