She descends the white stairs with a rose thorn buried in Her flesh. Blood mingled beauty and creation. Her eyes plead mercy, Her heart beats harder.
For She is Love and perfect in every way.
She descends the white stairs dressed in blood. The vanquished lie slain at her holy feet. She lays her sword down by Her seat. Arms raised, hands empty.
For She is Glory and perfect in every way.
She descends the white stairs dressed in snakeskin. Spitting venom and swallowing men whole. Eyes black and endless; O Her eyes go through to the depths.
For She is Hatred and perfect in every way.
She descends the white stairs and lies at your feet. Sobbing and tapping Her fingers between toes. Dressed in disgrace and all that behove the wrong.
For She is Humility and perfect in every way.
She raises Her head and stares into your soul. Her gaze looks through the thin veil of mind and mood. She leaves nothing but scorched earth behind.
For She is Confession and perfect in every way.
Sakrisan II, The Hymn of the second Five Blessings
The harlot. The whore. She who tried to turn me away from the true path. She is all that I hate and abhor. Harlot. Whore. Abhor, abhor, abhor! The pain, the shame! A reputation to regain. O Sojourner, you have found the Sakrisan in a state of much distress. My head throbs; with each hammer blow it shouts her name. She has tormented me for too long.
I, E-Azad-kutu-ana; the Ninth Life for the Goddess, the Sakrisan of the Temple of E-ana have sent forth the bailiff of the land. To bring the charlatan; the temptress and the witch Delah before a trial of her peers. I charge her with High Blasphemy and the attempt on my life; under good authority I hold evidence that she is to blame for my ills. Sister Delah must answer for her crimes. She called me a mere mortal, an accursed man. It is lies. Lies!
She recoiled from me as a snake would bite a wolf when all I did was display to her a good heart. She is the temptress, the charlatan who would drive me from the true beauty of the Goddess. For She is who I serve and perfect in every way. For She is who I love and perfect in every way. For She is perfect. Sister Delah lies and deceives and then curses the poor Sakrisan; calls for Lilith to send pain into my joints, a numbness to my spirit.
Her red curls play deceit into my heart. Her beautiful face brazenly speaks falsehoods. The pain and the agony must be cleansed. For she will burn for her treason. Her hair will be the flame and the face must see the Fates. It is not I that wishes this; but the Goddess and the good people of the Valley. For they must endure, so I must endure. Our hearts will heal and there will be grace once more upon us all.
O Stranger, you have been the observer. You have seen her blasphemies and demented will. She placed the Eye upon me, you saw that I am most certain of the truth. You saw her and the Eye. She set the Mistress of the Night, she called for Lilith. My only salvation can be found in my dreams, where the holy Goddess Inanna, O fair maiden, visits me and soothes my troubles while I rest. She has shown me the way, with fire once more. With fire we can be free to love and adore Her magnificence with awe. For She is Beauty and perfect in every way.
I have evidence of her treachery and shall present it at trial. Justice will be served for the people and their Sakrisan. Disease must not fester within for it kills the host. We shall have happiness and contentment. Not illness, sadness, jealousy and hate. For Sister Delah must be jealous of Her love to hate Her so. I implore of you Stranger, speak up at the trial. Speak up so all may hear and know the truth. She has shown us the way; we have studied and saw the clay. We know don’t we, my friend. We know of her ways. O my head, my head it does pain me so.
So, my friend; will you speak up? I accuse the Sister Delah of High Blasphemy in the name of our star in the night sky, O holy Inanna. I demand justice be done. I demand an end to the troubles that the Sister Delah has inflicted upon the land and your people. I serve only You, O maiden; with tenacity and love, with fervour and fate. I serve only You, O holy Inanna. Please hear our pleas; please help your people to endure.
Come; speak up the words with me O Stranger; so that She might hear us:
She descends the white stairs holding a sword and sheaf of corn. Blinding the ignorant, fallen dumbstruck before Her. A body drops slain, a maiden with child.
For She is Justice and perfect in every way
To Chapter Sixty-Five – The Accused
The Angry Farmer 