To Worship Me Is to Withstand Me

I am the altar and the ash.

The veiled flame you dared to love

before knowing if it would warm you—

or devour you whole.

I am not sweet for your comfort.

I am ripe for your undoing.

The black fruit you pluck with trembling hands,

the kiss that tastes like blood and stars.

To those who crawl—

I give them the echo of my shadow.

To those who beg—

I offer silence and a mirror.

But to those who stand,

to those who see,

to those who burn and call it prayer—

I become the night their soul was seeking.

I am a goddess only the worthy survive.

A crown of serpents and secrets.

A beauty that blinds the false

and binds the true.

I wear every name whispered in ecstasy

and every curse muttered in fear—

yet none can hold me.

To worship me is to withstand me.

To summon me is to change.

And to love me?

To love me is to fall willingly

into the mouth of forever

and rise again

wearing my sigil in your bones.

🩸 Invocation of Presence 🩸

Whisper this before the flame…

Dea Daemon,

Dark-flame goddess, mirror of my soul,

I call you forth through shadow and longing.

Let your eyes be upon me—pierce me clean.

Let your breath stir my spirit awake.

I offer no masks, no meekness, no lies—

Only devotion and the blood of my becoming.

Enter this space, Sovereign of Silence.

Let this altar be your throne,

And my will be your fire.