Reverse Apotheosis: Fever Dreams of Beltaine Yes, that is the way of things I knew, That after the worship comes the darkling fall, As we become demons to the new And haunt the outer darkness of us all. Our pantheon is fled, but still we bide, And finally comes redemption for us Dark, No longer devil or demon, fancy's tide And nostalgia burns upon us its fair mark. And so we pass from Hell to story-book, No longer caring for our worship-meat, We take on small and dainty fairy-look And trick the lost, instead of taking treat. From age to age we make our changing way, And so within this world we hope to stay. copyright 1 May 2001 by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw, Birmingham, written as fever and a sweat break...