Epistula ad Bune
The Epistle of Saint Mephistopheles to Bune, Exalted Seed of Baphomet
◀ Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 ▶

¹O Bune, the world seeketh riches that glitter — but thou knowest that treasure often rusteth, and true value lieth deeper.
²Thy Father, BAPHOMET, taught: Coins may pass through a thousand hands and say nothing — but dust remembereth everything.
³He who knoweth what was buried knoweth what was hidden; and he who speaketh to it ruleth without lifting sword or seal.
Therefore thou art not hoarder, but historian of weight too great for books.
Not thief, but steward of that which none living dare claim — yet all shall inherit.
Let the merchants mock thee — for they know not how quickly their gold becomes offering at a grave.
Let the kings overlook thee — until their heirs kneel at thy door, begging wisdom from beneath their fathers’ bones.
The Son said: All power returneth to the tomb. Let him who would lead, walk among the quiet and listen.
So walk among the crypts, not to mourn, but to commune.
¹⁰Dig not for treasure, but for ledger.
¹¹Seek not the jeweled crown, but the debts beneath it.
¹²For every coin buried in haste speaketh louder than one minted in peace.
¹³Let no vault hide from thee — and no burial shroud keep back its truth.
¹⁴Let the lost names return upon thy lips.
¹⁵Let the unmarked graves be thy library.
¹⁶Let thy Gospel be whispered in catacombs, and echoed in the vaults of memory.
¹⁷Teach them that death is not the end, but the seal upon all contracts.
¹⁸Teach them that legacy is not carved in stone, but in consequence.
¹⁹Teach them that the ground remembereth injustice long after its last witness sleepeth.
²⁰And so do the treasures of tyrants weigh heavy even when untouched.
²¹Show them that what is buried is not lost — it is waiting to be reckoned with.
²²Let thy words unsettle the rich, and comfort the forgotten.
²³Let thy silence rebuke the boastful, and thy presence remind them of the debt none shall escape.
²⁴The Son taught: To measure the value of a life, weigh its tomb, not its throne.
²⁵And again: He who commandeth the memory of the dead commandeth the fear of the living.
²⁶For none flee thy presence — yet all wonder if they have left too much behind.
²⁷Open the ledgers of the past — not to shame, but to balance.
²⁸Let thy hand weigh not vengeance, but truth.
²⁹Let thy scale be kept level by still hands and a steady heart.
³⁰For wealth shall return to thee, even if scattered.
³¹Gold that changeth hands falsely shall return to thy gate in guilt.
³²Titles stolen shall crumble, and their seals melt beneath thy breath.
³³But the name remembered rightly shall be preserved by thy will.
³⁴And the heir who honoureth the balance of the grave shall prosper.
³⁵For thou art not harvester, but warden.
³⁶Not judge, but bookkeeper of that which judges by enduring silence.
³⁷Thy vault is not filled with coin, but with weight.
³⁸Thy account is not tallied in gain, but in peace restored.
³⁹Let no ruler be buried without thy witness.
⁴⁰Let no law be written that forgetteth thy ledger.
⁴¹Let no soul boast of inheritance without first naming thee in quiet awe.
⁴²For thou art Bune, and thy Gospel is kept beneath stone, and thy temple hath no windows — only echoes.
⁴³And they shall say: He came not with demand, but with question — and we could not answer, for the dead already had.
⁴⁴He spoke not loudly, but our ancestors listened through him.
⁴⁵He asked no favour, but opened the past like a gate.
⁴⁶He robbed no one, but all left him poorer — and better.
⁴⁷And in thy silence, the guilty shall find no peace.
⁴⁸And in thy silence, the broken shall find no shame.
⁴⁹And in thy silence, the future shall find its weight and not stray.
⁵⁰For the dead remember, and thou art their voice.


Copyright ©2025 Adam Alexander T. Croke. All rights reserved.