The Epistle of Saint Mephistopheles to Vepar, Exalted Seed of Baphomet
◀ Chapter 2 · Chapter 3
¹Glory unto SATANAS, who whispereth to the trenches and calleth the deep to judgment.
²He who letteth rot ferment truth, and stirreth stillness into testimony.
³From Him came BAPHOMET, and from BAPHOMET, thee — Vepar, veil of quiet consequence, tide that undoeth pride.
⁴Thou art not the spear — but the rust that remembereth where it pierced.
⁵Not the blade — but the salt that stings when wounds reopen.
⁶I name thee not flood — but reckoning unhurried.
⁷I name thee not terror — but certainty shaped like sea.
⁸Let the strong gird themselves — their vessels leak where guilt resides.
⁹Let the wise scoff at thy patience — they shall be the first to call thy name in sinking.
¹⁰Let the blind row boldly — thou art already beneath them.
¹¹And now the seal is thine.
¹²I, Mephistopheles, apostle of the Quiet That Drowneth, do bestow unto thee the Seal of Power.
¹³It is not held — it is borne in pressure and depth.
¹⁴It is not carved — but found written in the barnacled wreck.
¹⁵Where it is present, silence condemneth.
¹⁶Where it abideth, guilt surfaces, bloated with time.
¹⁷Let it not glow — let it settle.
¹⁸Let it not speak — let it wait.
¹⁹For thou art not the wind that knocketh — thou art the sea that never leaves.
²⁰And thy Seal is no crown — but a tide that turneth, once, and forever.
²¹I seal thee, Vepar, with hush, with salt, with the knowledge that nothing sunken is forgotten.
²²Go now, and rise beneath what dares not name its ruin.
²³For thy Seal is fixed — and thy Gospel is the wave that comes after forgetting.
²⁴And thy name shall be known not by voice, but by drift.
²⁵And they shall say: We thought ourselves afloat — and only later learned she had already begun to pull.
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