Leeches And Deception

The old monk of a womewhat Thelemite, or "crow"-related order
Dressed in a torn, old grown of jute
Had been locked up in a tiny box inside a wall
This cubic room was painted in dark(est)-red and midnight blue

When the door was opened again
He was screaming terribly
As towards the end of his self-imposed isolation
He must have suffered from most horrible visions and/or hallucinations
Persumely, they had been caused by previous days of his ritual fasting
The images he saw must have been atrocious ideed.

The white-haired, bearded monk was in his forties I believe
That's 4 and 0 for the earthern sphere.

Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute
Because what might look like e clichee is necessity and truth!
Do not make stupid jokes about the man in the crow-related cowl of jute
Bcause by transforming himself he might be saving me and you
Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute
Because what might look like e clichee is necessity and
Truth!

After he was released again
A trans-/bisexual vampyre-demon was crawling after him out of the same box
Though this demon/creature should have been dissolved
Instead he had just split himself in two halves
Dark-red, fat and swollen like a leech
It surely must have been feasting on the poor man
While they were both locked up inside the wall.

A ritual
(I become a witness of an unexpected ritual, a demonstration.)

On the right side of me
A magician hissingly exhales
Directing his breath on a spongy, spherical thing.