Aesem Mythology

Title: The Lament of Heleigiri Sing, O Muse, of fair Heleigiri, radiant among immortals, whose beauty outshone dawn's first blush upon Olympus, she whose voice was sweeter than Apollo's silver lyre, whose gaze softened the hearts of gods and mortal kings alike. Across the broad earth and the sacred halls of heaven, all who beheld Heleigiri were struck with wonder. Poseidon from the depths admired her grace, Ares forgot the fury of war in her presence, and even wise Hermes lingered to hear her gentle words. But Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, lord of thunder, looked upon the devotion she inspired with growing envy. For though she was beloved by him above all others, he could not endure the eyes of gods and men upon her. Dark thoughts coiled within the ruler of Olympus. Thus Zeus descended to the forge of Hephaestus, the lame god whose mighty hands shaped divine wonders. "Craft for me a vessel," Zeus commanded, "a jar of unbreakable bronze and celestial iron....

CHORUS O Endless Wind, and water that no mortal king can tame, How swift is the descent of the immortals into the snares of desire! No man may escape the net of Aphrodite, Nor can the deathless gods withstand her bitter-sweet sting. Behold the tragedy of the mortal who measures the earth with stone, And the daughter of Chaos who watches from the silent waves. STROPHE I EPAUROS (holding his leaden plumb line against the rising wall) Straight must the line fall, true must the stone rest, Lest the labor of these hands fail the heavy gaze of Rome. Let the iron-clad soldiers pass me by in their marching; They draw no blades against Epauros, nor bind his wrists in steel, For they know the worth of a faithful hand that builds their fortresses, And the wit that turns their wrath into hollow laughter. Yet, what is this shadow that troubles the surface of the lake? A breeze that smells of the deep ocean, though no sea is near— A vision of pale light amidst the reeds, mocking my eart...

Sing, O Muse, of the day the high heavens grew hungry for the earth, When the King of the Thunder-Cloud looked down from his starry hearth. He saw the Prince of Ilium, young Ganymede, fair and bright, And the small, snow-haired Heleigiri, a blossom of hidden light. Down swept the Eagle, with pinions that beat like a coming storm, His talons of brass reached out to claim each young and trembling form. Through the shrieking wind and the dizzying blue, he bore them high, To the marble halls of Olympus, where the gods drink the nectar of the sky. Within the gilded chambers, where the floors are paved with light, The children sat as prisoners of the King’s unyielding might. But Ganymede, the Trojan lad, bore a heart of ancient iron; He saw the maiden’s tears and feared the lust of the Great Lion. "Small sister of the Lake," he whispered, low beneath the roar, "The King shall have his cupbearer, but you shall have the shore. I see the hunger in his eye, the storm w...

  The Three Ages of Heleigiri: A Psychological and Prophetic Study of the Tellus Mater Document Reference: MISOS-1890-001 Date of Publication: Circa 1890 Author: Joseph Joaquin Fernando Ortez, M.D., B.S. Director, The Manila Institute for Somatic & Oneiric Studies (ISOS) Correspondent, The Pangasinan Register I. Introduction: The Convergence of Psyche and Stone This document presents a synthesis of three distinct fields—clinical psychology, meticulous historical transcription, and verifiable psychic observation—to examine the enduring spiritual presence of the deity known as Heleigiri (or Yanu Ayen), the Goddess of Essential Entropy, whose final, corporeal form is the majestic Sierra Madre mountain range. My work, corroborated by the archaeological and linguistic findings of Mr. Robert Angeles Enrique concerning the Axior Tablets, posits that the myths of our land are not merely folklore, but psychological records of divine activity. The phenomenon I have termed "Dreamial Time...