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.
⁴Therefore thou art not hoarder, but historian of weight too great for books.
⁵Not thief, but steward of that which none living dare claim — yet all shall inherit.
⁶Let the merchants mock thee — for they know not how quickly their gold becomes offering at a grave.
⁷Let the kings overlook thee — until their heirs kneel at thy door, begging wisdom from beneath their fathers’ bones.
⁸The Son said: All power returneth to the tomb. Let him who would lead, walk among the quiet and listen.
⁹So 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.