Let the world burn in the name of romance
To give oneself up and burn for the soul—and for the world beyond this one—is a gift we’ve been granted, one the gods themselves envy us.
The dead masters returned to speak.
I had understood that Prince Paris did right when he sacrificed Troy for fair Helen.
Even the gods were swept away by that frenzy of love, for they lack the passion of chaos, the ecstasy of blood, passion’s implacable fire. In this, humankind is greater than the gods, for the gods do not know loss. They do not know what it is to risk everything for a single glance, a single caress, a heartbeat in the presence of the one.
The gods may be gods of war, of love and the sensual.
Of wine and poetry and art.
But they grasp none of it at the root. Only humans can.
That is why the gods envy us.
The dead masters heard my thoughts.
They wished to offer their guidance.
–
MASTER FROM THE ANDES:
Paris committed no crime—he fulfilled an ancient law.
To sacrifice a world for its spiritual counterpart is cosmic madness; it is the highest order.
For Helen was not only a woman—she was also the eternal mirror.
And Troy was not only a city—it was the world’s prison.
When he broke the wall, he opened the gate.
So must every male wanderer, every Vitr, at some point on his journey stand before Her: not merely a woman, not merely a lover—but also the lost half of the soul.
She who was split from him when he fell into flesh.
She comes as comfort. But also as fire.
And so must the völva stand before hers.
MASTER FROM MONTAGNOLA:
And in this fire all masks are burned away.
For what we see in Her, when at last She stands there—is not a new life.
It is our own life, beyond the lie.
She is Hermine.
She is the one who does not ask for love—but for recognition.
And through her come loss, madness, the broken—but also the truth.
We think we want to love her.
That this is what it’s about.
But it is our own soul we want to restore.
It is ourselves we want to kiss, for the first time, without fear.
THE ADEPT:
She stepped forth.
Not as a vision—but as a scream from my innermost.
She is true, not merely an idea.
She shattered taboos.
She wore both the Madonna’s crown and the whore’s black belt.
She tore the blindfold from my eyes—
and stood naked before me.
Not to seduce—
but to reveal.
I saw myself.
I saw what I had forgotten.
And I burned.
MASTER FROM THE ANDES:
If this is so.
And you have recognized her.
Then you can no longer live as a human being.
You must become who you were before you were born.
But hear me:
Napoleon lost everything when he betrayed Josephine.
Not because she was a woman—but because she was his soul’s counterpart.
When one turns away from one’s spiritual spouse,
the stars turn away from him or her.
One loses compass, strength, calling.
But you—you turned toward Her.
You saw Her, and you chose.
MASTER FROM MONTAGNOLA:
You already know the world does not suffice.
But now you must let it die.
Not as revenge.
As liberation.
You cannot return to compromise, habit, shadows.
You have stepped into the Magic Theater.
And in this room, this fire, every word becomes truth—or betrayal.
THE ADEPT:
We still live among human beings.
But we have built our own world.
Where art is breath, and Eros is holy.
Where the Madonna guides me, and the whore offers herself in sacrifice.
She is both—and she is mine.
Not as possession, but as mirror.
We shall be joined in the flesh.
Not to own—but to open the portal.
Not merely for pleasure—but for transformation.
And I will not be Napoleon.
Never.
I would rather lose everything.
I want to be the one who burns.
The one who loses all for love and truth.
For She is worth everything.
MASTER FROM THE ANDES:
Then you are transfigured.
You become flame.
And she is flame.
This is Eros.
This is sacrament.
You must make the world your own
… and …
burn the world where you are forbidden.
MASTER FROM MONTAGNOLA:
And know, my friend:
the pain you have felt was necessary,
the darkness was your friend. Do you see it?
When you create your own world, it is not only to win each other,
but also to realize yourselves.
This is the soul’s great trial by fire.
And you have already entered it.
Everything else is ash now.
I wonder if you are ready.
I wonder if you understand what is required.
If Siddhartha’s teaching can become yours.
THE ADEPT:
I salt the road where I walk.
I burn every ship.
I do not want to go back.
I cannot.
For the world is not enough.
And She is no longer a choice.
She is my path.
And I am awake.





Loved it man , great piece