Category Archives: Enchanted Scriptures



source: unknown

Author’s note: for a while now, I have been compiling a Scripture According To Shadows. I write pieces that are based on the Holy Bible. My book is not meant to replace the bible, but to highlight some messages I think the bible is trying to communicate. The piece below is a prologue coming late. Apologies.




Narrator, in a deep voice:

In the modern day land of myth and legend


Narrator now raises hands and high-pitches voice dramatically:

Heads duck as lightning sparks fly generously

People’s and monsters’ alike

They scream fear and horror

Like babies on beds of pins and needles

They run and tumble

As mountains crack and ocean waves hit

Chaos graces the day


Narrator now exits


Seeing him descending mildly

You’ll never know he is the cause

Of the apocalypse happening below

This dove gliding smoothly

Has his focus on the humans

Not those spirits and forces of legend

Not the powers unseen and terrifying

But these tumbling fumbling mortals

Parading aimlessly the surface

Of this small round planet

Bloody bloodied ants without a queen


He deals in strange ways this one

He doesn’t wear shiny clothes and blings

That advertise his wealth or power

And doesn’t strut around with stooges or paparazzo

We have searched for him all over

Google, Facebook, Twitter and all

Well, maybe he runs a bitcoin account


He is perfectly stealthy this one

He hides in plain sight

Yet cannot be hidden

He is so plain in intent

Yet holds scary secrets

Average-sized friendly neighbourhood mortal by day

Super-sized scary mysterious force by night

He sees the shades of reality

Samples all states of matter

From the 2-dimensional

Through all physical

Through the psychological

Downright to the spiritual

He breezes through dimensions all at once

And he does all these without the aid of technology

He can manipulate forms of matter

Commanding the weather is the least

Of tricks he’s got in his toolbox

He can bend the minds of men

Without having to select the most suggestible subjects

He can bend even the intelligence of those ancient spirits

Without these victims knowing they are under hypnosis

And he’ll still get home in time for moonlight dinner

All in an 8-hour day job


Fear this one who wrecks critics

Without even packing a ‘matic

He takes down whole schools of philosophy

Without a blast or lead

And when he’s done arguing

He straightens some bent bones

Or raises some corpse

For a cherry on top

He’s just totally lovin’ ’n rockin’


As regular-looking as he is unusual

He rolls with both high and low

Yet not rude or caustic just to prove a point

He blends well into social functions

As well as solitary places and forests

And though he soars in abstracts thoughts

He is also downright realistic

And even dabbles into politics

Not like those monk-y philosophers

Who constantly live in the heavens

Unminding the nation is at brink of collapse

Or those philosophers with their own agendas

Who trade their worth in sincerity

For a glass of power and vodka


Who’d think the foundation of this man’s life

Was just love for humanity

Catered for the battered, tattered and shattered

Empathic with the sick, weak and bleak

Lightened the blackened, lacking and darkened


And in that same spirit with which he comforts

He deals with the darkness that rules souls and nations

And for a coup de gras

He crosses over the threshold of humanity

Through dying and takes on the enemy territory

Totally razing the zone

To the point of no comeback for the enemy

He blends in with the citizens of hades

Breaks through the rocky strongholds of Belial

Walks over the raging waters of the Leviathan

Takes the winds out and choking the Lucifer

To carry out a fatality strike on the Satan with the flaming sword

He now carts away the sacred treasures

It is like a scene out of an epic


He now leaves gehenna

Coming back to earth to distribute gifts

To those who all their lives

Have been wasting and impoverished


Oh, he still walks around today alright

Having achieved the status of a true IMMORTAL

Hiding in plain sight

Keeping it real all the way


No, not in the steeples of the cathedrals

Or the big offering boxes at sermons

He doesn’t bathe with the Holy Water

Or rub Anointing Oil on his skin


He is out and in everywhere…




Trick or treat

Dance to the beat

Coz we got you neat

Oh you sly Herod got the heat

And now totally unsettled on your seat

(source: unknown)


Sat on your throne feeling neat

Any wagging tongues your guards beat

You called the shots and dictated the beat

You get angry and the innocent feel the heat

You give the orders and it all becomes a bloody treat


Well now feel my beat

I’m gonna give it to you neat

I turn on my words like the heat

From my kitchen comes a nuclear treat

Coz I’m a righteous gangster from heaven’s seat


All we got in life are a treat

Handed to us all in our seat

We can’t control life’s every beat

Not to speak of our every heart’s beat

Who survives when life brings on the white heat


Whether we work under the heat

Or play games each lounging on his seat

Fate is a cunning illness none can fully treat

Though we alter some events at life’s complex treat

There’s much in this party that doesn’t dance to all our beat


So whilst on your sadistic seat

Feeling like a god so fly and neat

The magicians heard a different beat

And did not stagger at the sight of your heat

But rocked side to side at the Chef-God’s treat


And now Herod feel the heat under your seat

As you just got beat at your own grand treat

Coz the Chef-God’s heat cooked you neat

Giving you a treat to his version of heat

Time to feel my beat crash your seat


Matthew 2:1-13 contains a summary of how Herod’s attempt at killing God’s son was totally foiled.


Narrator: “Hollup magi, I’m coming. Herod’s goose is cooked! Let’s go see those gods of the 21st century feeling like they own the universe and all of existence. We need to remind them they didn’t conceive, incubate and give birth to themselves. Now that they all grown up and making a few bucks and academic degrees, they be barking up and down the streets with doggy philosophies and belching with goaty pride!”





After the saga of the angels and virgins

We continue this tale of humble origins

At the ancient land of adventure and djinns


They grew skilled in the art

Of setting the merely supernatural apart

And studying the truly spiritual by heart



We’ve analyzed psychological effects and tricks

Criticized those engaged in religious theatrics

But we don’t do these just for kicks


So on seeing the strange star

Mad curiosity drove them travelling far

And they didn’t even use a car


When we landed in the metropolis

We said when accosted by the metro-police

We seek the righteous soul please


The police burst into wild guttural laughter

Calling their speaker a philosophical faffer

Like a page out of its chapter


Called the bunch amusing strangers

Like drunks who made wagers

They’d win a shootout with rangers


They then gave them an intro

To the 21st century in toto

Showing them they were so retro


We’ve come from a time

Where good flows in the clime

And love don’t cost a dime


Weapons protect us from nature

Not destroy each other’s future

And we got peace words can’t capture


We all thrive as one

Under the Illuminated One

Nothing he does can be undone


Magicians generally keep a low profile

And so these were silent all the while

Without saying anything right or vile


They couldn’t have come in vain

So they asked again and again

Though hearts bled in pain


We’ve been gathering knowledge in stages

Whilst half-truths and pride keep others in cages

Holding on to views and traditions for ages


Science and philosophy have their place

To finding truth they help in that race

But limited when evil stares you in the face


We are experimenters and astute observers

Not narrow-minded like so many others

Who can’t see science and faith share many borders


So we took to flight

At the signal of the true light

Who illuminates all in sight


Even our lord the Illuminated One

Can never hold a candle to this one

All realms will bow to this righteous one


(source: What worlds really are all around us?

He will bridge the spiritual and physical

Unravel the dark web of the mystical

And he is not even mythical


So let all those with seeing eyes

Break away from all other ties

To reach for where reality lies


We will join you wherever you are in time and space in this search!


Matthew chapter 2 verse 1: NOW WHEN Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men [astrologers] from the east came to Jerusalem, asking, 2. Where is He Who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east at its rising and have come to worship Him. 9. When they had listened to the king, they went their way, and behold, the star which had been seen in the east in its rising went before them until it came and stood over the place where the young Child was. 10. When they saw the star, they were thrilled with ecstatic joy. 11. And on going into the house, they saw the Child with Mary His mother, and they fell down and worshiped Him.


PERSONAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I wonder what really “unseen” means. We can’t exactly see atoms. Does that make them spiritual? What is the nature of non-physical intelligent beings? Can we readily walk the bridge between the physical and the ‘spiritual’ worlds?

The Apprentice



Come humbly and cautiously before my face

Avoiding the awe and terror in this space

As I stare any Jack in the eye

Damning your status low or high


Some call him a madman

Others a magician and charlatan

Wielding a dangerous weapon

To whom the minds of the crowd bend and open


I’ve got the power of art

To touch the shadows in anyone’s heart

Stabbing them recklessly with my pen

Coz I’m a righteous monster from heaven’s den


He eats locusts and honey

He’s no prophet looney over money

Dressed in sweater made of woolly things

No mere gangster enslaved with gold rings and blings


Been years walking among those fakes

Who ain’t got no real idea what it takes

To confidently state the spiritual ain’t for real

Coz they ain’t seen the real deal


They shamelessly blurt and pontificate

Parading themselves as scientifically literate

They haven’t searched half the world or their souls

Packaging theories and philosophies featuring holes


I grew wise in the wild

Saw the supernatural as a child

Compelled to consider how this reality

Intertwines with the spiritual in totality


The acid-test for prophecy is fulfilment

Heard about Him when I was sent

So when out of the blues Christ appeared

I knew the spiritual was to be feared

I happen to feel that the degree of a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting attitudes she can bring to bear on the same topic. Lisa Alther

some would argue differently though.


The report of John the Baptist (the apprentice): I repeat, I know nothing about him except this: The One who authorized me to baptize with water told me, ‘The One on whom you see the Spirit come down and stay, this One will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ That’s exactly what I saw happen, and I’m telling you, there’s no question about it: This is the Son of God.” Matthew chapter 3 verses 1-17; John chapter 1 verses 29-34


A nail to the head


(Source online, unknown)

I now stand tall proud loser
Gracefully holding my head
Empty of any sensibility
Hence easy to bear
My heart beating passionately easily
Because of the hole in my chest
Letting out the heavy sea of blood
The heart normally has to cope with

So, after my head empties out,
What next?

I boldly display my monkey-tail
Put up as I scamper away in frightful flight
From all the stark raving difficulties
Faithfully stalking my daily life like psychopaths

Then banging my head on the floor
In manly resignation to the insanities chasing me
To end up contacting
So the kind Doc. can help nurse my mental bruises

I throw hands up in the air waving like at a musical rave
Poetically exclaiming the hopelessness of it all
Before even my penned hands get tired and chained
For this whole homicidal act on the dignified person of poetry

And I lie on my damp bed
Stinking un-bathed soul
Drenched with rain of sorrows
So cold in this life I can’t get dry

Never mind I am shivering epileptically
And I have to cover myself
Keeping me further damp, sticky and stinky
Yet You(God) don’t stop

But in all this call me sad –a sad, sad man
Because I see even no relief or sense in suicide
I am no judge in this frame of mind
But least, I was sane enough to analyse my hopelessness

What do You want from me
Will You be happy when I let it all go
Throw out my life
And hang myself on a cross?
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