Old Night - Nightbringer

Thou hermit of Old Night who wadest into the turbulence of the waters

un-drowned, who verily enters into death’s magisterium without fear,

thou whose toil is the ineffable work of the abyss that draws forth the all

slaying solve, thou art amongst the deathless race of the kingless,

beyond the provenance of god

In the light of Lucifer’s dawn, thy shadow casts long and dim before thee

In the pitch of Noctifer"s saturnine night thy shadow is the very face of the

abyss

Oh vajra-hearted lord enthroned within the silence between the birth and death

of every thought, in thronismos within the shadowed temple at the crux of the

cruciform!

Yet shall the very abyss of thought be wholly illuminated by the gleam from thy

morningstar lantern, the fruit plucked from the deepest root

To guide the pandemonion of self unto the scarlet hill of martyrdom,

upon the path that even devas are cursed to tread

Thou hast withdrawn the husks of the most bitter seed and the garments from the

gods themselves, to reach the hypostasis that is a black pearl dazzling the 7

aeons

Betwixt the hammer and anvil of becoming is thy presence eternal that is in

between-ness known as N.O.X.

Self-murderer and Self-begetter, with eyes fixed

unto the cup of Djemscheed, thou breakest the chains forged by stellar gravity

Oh, the motionless movement of Death!

With both the soberness of the Amethyst

and the mad Satyr’s ecstatic thirst, leap ye forth into the Mandala’s center

The Point where sun and moon collide, crushed to lifeless splinters before

ancient Night’s hollow eye