Communal hymn for Apollo Soranos
I pray to Apollo
Who runs with wolves
Who knows and who tells
I pray to Apollo of the Starry Bull
Flying the forests at night
Feet aflame with the pine underfoot
Whose hands have seized the sacrifice
The God of Those Who are Dead
Far flung your arrows
Piercing the flesh and bringing
Sudden death to men
The breath of rot exudes from
Your underworld throne
Or perhaps it is the Serpent’s flesh we scent, left to decay
Filling the oracle with life
Hail the wolf, the taker
Hail bright fire consuming all
Plague-stayer, healer, God good to mortals
Apollo Soranos ablaze!
Silent Hunter, Eyes in the Dark,
The Wolf that renders Your prey,
All ends with you; you are the limit of all the world,
The fence dividing the land.
But though You bring death,
Existence continues on the other side,
Envenomed and wrung out,
That much purer for the fire.
You fell the wood that needs felling.
Cull in us what must be culled.
Wreathed in spells as an icon in perfumed smoke,
Chanting verses that echo beckoning from lonely places,
Haloed in bog-fire, Wolf-faced, leading on the web-footed choir of Acheron,
Apollo Soranos, may we hear your songs of power!
Hear and be riven by madness,
Hear and join our voices, raised as smoke over the sacrifical pit,
Hear and dance amongst the dead,
Until our madness leaves us with but a tune upon our exhausted lips!
You are He upon whom we call
You are the burning wolf who tears
Asunder the ruddy dark bull
You are the coiled dragon of twilight
Looming over the sacred tomb
Pouring libations upon the earth
For you have torn the vine from the
Wine dark soil, you have consumed
The flesh of the living.
You are the bearer of the bull-goad
Preserver of the fruits. You reap all;
All of that which you nurture and sustain
And you He shall reap at the end
Of that brief time of mortal days,
In His lauded glory, and in his name.