In shadows deep, where whispers crawl,
An occult figure rose to stand tall.
Aleister Crowley, the man of lore,
With magic and myst'ries, opened the door.

A crow on his shoulder, a knowing wink,
Enigmatic thoughts, his mind's ink.
He'd summon the spirits, the demons, and all,
With arcane incantations, that made walls crawl.

He straddled the line 'tween darkness and light,
A sorcerer's dance, his eternal fight.
Crowley, the master, the Great Beast untamed,
In the annals of history, forever famed.

As the crow takes flight through moonlit skies,
Crowley's own journey, a tale of surprise.
He sought hidden truths, while others would cower,
In the witching hour, his power did flower.

In the language of angels, he'd often speak,
Enigmas and riddles, the truth he'd seek.
His wisdom was vast, a library of lore,
A seeker of mysteries, forevermore.

The crows gather 'round as night swiftly falls,
A testament to Crowley, their presence recalls.
His spirit lives on in the shadows that crawl,
Aleister Crowley, his name we enthrall.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

это откуда?

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Gpt4

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

А каков был запрос?

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

стих про Кроули с элементами игры слов с его фамилией, напр crow, crawl

(Reply to this) (Parent)