The Canticles Of Damiana Evohe

Volume XIII

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! Vesica Ordo Templi Solus Noir !

Genesis

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Ode To Lost Souls

Not to you do I speak the brave of heart and firm of purpose

Nor to you bright ones within a field of light

Not to you who walks in purpose fulfilled

Nor to you of vision strong buoyed by life’s enrichment

But to you I speak wanderer upon the shores of night

And to you the desolate ones outside the circles of life

Raised upon columns of molten ash

Your journey began with a cry and ends with a scream

Betwixt the emptiness evolved

First a doubt becomes a certainty

Those of faith know you not

Those of vision know you not

Those of purpose know you not

Within the citadel of life do they dwell

basking beneath an indolent sun

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Astarte Vel Berylli

The Call

And who would walk this way with me, creature of shadow and dark repose, who yet yearns to feel the warmth of a human heart. The caress that calls the blood to flow, the breath to quicken, the breath dissolving the flesh in rapture, an angel passing between us. Skin soft, warm, bathed in nectar as onward we spiral. For I have dreamed and in that dream a voice reaches out towards me in welcome. Casting new shapes and patterns before my eyes, shapes yet hard of surface, begin to yield, soften, flow in liquid curves, undulating as surface meets surface, moistens, liquifies and flows to a greater depth. Shadows pass leaving a silven moon.

Upon a hilltop amidst a forest glade, the purple legion of night around and between us. The dark silhouette of arboreal forms. A stream wending its way across rocky terrain in quest of its continuance, its source, its end. For in truth we stand alone, and yet a time, a one whose heart beats to a similar tune. A thought echoed across the aethyrs. The call of nature’s horn, that her creatures know of rapture and repose. To what surface does this call? And from what depth comes forth the answer?

To you who walks in beauty these words, these echoes are sent. Shapes born of ink and wrought in thought. Each one bearing within itself a heart beat, a dream, a vision. Long may we walk in shadows, perchance that daylight beckons. And with this passing thought I bid thee adieu.

*** It has been said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. In this instance my journey was of twenty years duration and began with a simple Bhakti Yoga working as outlined in Liber Astarte vel Berylli sub figura CLXXV. The Passion & The Purity also titled Liber 131 was the working rite for the quest for Pan and by numerical value Samael, the name I bear within The Order Of Typhon. This simple beginning revealed itself to be but the first step in regard of what has become my life’s work, namely, Solus Noir, The Book Of The Black Sun. Work that has created a wellspring of creativity that with the completion of the final cycle of rites has now been forged into Axiomata wherein Image, Sigil and text are fused by the mind and heart into vision which becomes the vehicle of ones spellcraft. ***

Na’amah

A Tale For The Unredeemed

And what are your thoughts my dearest 0ne? she asked, raising her eyes to meet his, and in that moment of their eyes meeting he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her question was not one for little consideration. Ah, but we race ahead and like all stories we need a beginning, a sense of time and place, of purpose and destination. Who are our characters? What of their history and what brings them to this moment in time and to this place?

Of our characters we will speak little for their story has been told elsewhere within the words and pages of another time. It is enough to know that their meeting was but a short time ago upon the shores of a wind swept sea beneath a leaden sky, waves rolling upon the stones that formed this beach that we now begin to envisage. Gulls squabbling over scraps tossed to them by wayfarers, each bent upon their own purpose. He sits, as is his habit, solitary, musing upon the times and those things which have befallen him within this his life and world. Of age, uncertain for he carries the ambience of youth, yet a youth seeded with the fires of travail, of experience beyond his seeming narrow years. Of stature, slight, as though he would erase even this presence from the recognition of others. Muscular, evidence of his pursuits within the understanding of the Greeks. His features fey, as if transported from the realm of sylph or undine. Hair, dark, hanging like a waterfall across his now bent shoulders. And yet it is his eyes that reveal the greatest mystery. Golden stained violet at their heart. The mark of his kind, a token of remembrance within this world of dream and forgetfulness. And with these eyes he has witnessed the wonders of a child’s laughter, seen the beauty in the folds of a rose and its petals, dreamed upon the cascading fall of stars out of an indigo night and looked into the heart of another in search of belief. Eyes which, as the witness have seen history unfold between the breath of ages, history written in blood and deceit.

And now he muses upon these, his last days upon this world. Yes he has known Love unredeemed, yes harvested the bounty and beauty that the world offers her errant children. Known victory and defeat, joy and sorrow in equal measure. Once he had lain upon a golden hill, the earth beneath, embracing him as would a mother her child

and above the diamond bright night sky shone, a mantle of stars, each a tiny pin prick that pierced his skin, releasing the ecstasy that dwelt at his very core and with each breath he felt himself erased and cast adrift upon the night air. And now, like then is his breath caught upon the tide, rolling eternally back and forth upon this foreign shore and time.

A gull, insistent, gains his attention, pulls him back to the moment and his purpose and with the tang of the ocean rousing his dormant senses he begins to remember. A breeze gentle catches at the folds of his coat, which he wraps tighter around himself against the sudden cold. Alone he sits, his heart calls forth in cyphers of blood and bone, calls forth between the folds of his breath, between the beats of his heart and between the passing of each thought until finally he comes to rest in silence. It is then that he sees another. She rises as if from the oceans depth itself and walks in his direction. The sun burns its way through the leaden clouds and forms a nimbus around her casting rainbow light before her, each step she takes towards him etches memory into his awakening senses and were we to look closer, the dawn of a smile embraces his lips and eyes. Her form elven, tall and slender, wrapped in a cloak of velvet, deep as night. Sewn into her long golden hair the tokens of earth and sea. Like his her eyes, when he finally glimpses them, golden stained violet at their heart. Her features though sharpened into high relief possess a quality of mutability, as if she transformed before his eyes into all those he had known.

She sits beside him, gracefully and honours the silence that unfolds between them. A silence rich with feeling and meaning as if they communed and spoke in cyphers of understanding. Finally she asks the question, and what are your thoughts my dearest 0ne? And we return to our moment of beginning, our tale, a tale now fleshed in some detail of character, time and place. And upon hearing this question his eyes are raised and sweeping the golden veil from her eyes, he gazes into the liquid orbs before him. I but dream, my love, dream upon the currents of the sea, dream upon the cascade of stars falling into the eternal night, dream of hope, of redemption within this the vale of tears. Yes dearest, she replies, dream my beloved for in such ways are we united. I rise from the oceans depth this day to share a moment, stolen from the fabric of space, of time, to embrace you, as ever in this unfolding moment. She offers him her hand and he feels the softness of this fleeting embrace and clutches it in his memory, for as ever it too will pass and he will return to his slumbers within amniotic oceans embrace.

My thoughts, my love, as ever dwell with you, in the steps you take within the unfolding of your days. Will greet each new morn with you in the rapture of mystery unfolding. Will catch you as you fall, embrace you beneath the mantle of the moon. Share the joy that informs your heart and the sorrow which bleaches your eyes. Will walk beside you upon clifftops and golden valley until the day death claims and unites us in eternity. She sighs and places a kiss upon his lips, a kiss that burns

away the separation, yet burns away the hope and leaves the emptiness that is but his to claim and embrace. And as ever she departs, rising and entering the ocean, into the embrace of its arms she steps and upon the air a diminishing echo, remember and be at peace for I await thee.

*** Indeed she did rise from the ocean deeps and that is a tale that concerns both the man and the mage. The former has known joy and sorrow whilst the latter has only known the work began so long ago and now completed and as he harvests the fruit of his labour he stands alone and complete. The act of balancing the planes, both abstract and mundane has consumed much energy and as always the initial source of that energy is one’s very life, a life willingly sacrificed, the means by which one enters the service of devotion. The relationship between scribe and muse is well known and that we have experienced fully to the point of our muse also being our siren.

Two decades did we travel our path that gave rise to the manifestation of the primary avatar during cycle 1. With the passing of twelve years we entered cycle 2 and manifested our Grigori sister with whom we commenced cycle 3, entered The Triangle Of Arte and invoked Lilith, our bride and consort. The project we have called Trinity served as the means by which we were to sow our spells into the prima mater and finally upon fulfilling The Final Grigori Prophecy during 2010ev was our work completed.

Now we do but cast shadows, the fruit of our vision, cyphered as image and text which serves but one purpose

And In Those Days It Was Given Unto The False Prophets

To Spread The Lie Sow The Seed Of Doubt

Draw Aside The Veil

And Reveal The End Of Days

No other purpose do we serve and the ecstasy that fills our veins, raises our heart unto the stars and renders this world a shadow which no longer concerns us. Yes it is possible for a simple human being to live their own story rather than the ones we have been told and somnambulant like, follow. This our reward, this our redemption and as the days continue to unfold we wonder as to our continued presence but with grace accept our fate with dignity. Adieu. Samael ***

Sunday April 29 2012ev 4.50 pm London

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Na’amah

Golden thread around heart entwined Visage of palest gold bleached by blood Darkest barb venom sweet Vision of light shadowed by blood moon Step by step the pageant unfolds Embrace melt into rapture Dissolve into bliss denied

Pale golden one a kiss upon thy brow A caress upon breast of softest silk Entwine limbs slick with sweat Heat dissolves flesh Breath dissolves thought Passion dissolves the heart Union dissolves life

Blood flows from wounds deep as time Semen rises caught in a cup of softest velvet Between golden thighs Breath quickens and dissolves in rapture sweet Breath stills in the velvet shroud of darkest midnight Cascading thought tumbles into oblivion servant of time Na’amah golden one mistress of time servant of none

Shapes born of desire replace the tapestry of life Life bows to death her master Through silven forests does she dance beneath pale Hecate Loose thy arrows desolate one pierce flesh spent in passion Golden nectar flows through limbs broken Darkest venom courses through veins burned upon thy pyre

Yglas Na’amah

Yglas Isheth

Yglas Ygrat

Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori

Evohe Evohe Evohe

Ast Innui Khephri Vos

Ahdi Ypres Grigori

Selim Ast Nobilis

Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast

Portus Lucis Noir

Ave

One kiss granted benediction One kiss denied eternal longing

Reflection dark shadows arise A mist of amber stained blood red Lightning burns eyes long weary Thunder subdues heart quenched in fire Gaze deep into the mirror of thy mind Draw deeply from the well of thy heart Broken vessel leaking blood into sand unheeding Once a garden pure where innocence was born Leaf and stem embraced in love Once an earth mother to her children Cradled in loving arms Once starlight dissolved the vacuum of space A thousand angels voices arched in ecstasy Once life pierced the veil of time The tapestry woven thread by thread

Across the mountains of the moon did we walk my love and i Taking our rest within the vale of Aphrodite Into the boundary lands did we step Upon a plain of golden sand the bones of all who went before Beneath our sun we walk ebon rays shining forth Dissolving all that has been and will be Creation unmade upon the plain of truth unfolding Namrael fairest maiden Samael desolate one Hand in hand each step a drop of blood released upon the aethyrs And in the last of days two grigori walk upon the earth And they shall die

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54)

The Boundary Lands

Daath

The Palace Of Exiles

Prime Considerations

This text is to be considered in the light of an extensive undertaking, twenty years in the making, to manifest The Black Sun. The Black Sun may be viewed as the natural consequence of the unification of Samael and his consort Lilith. Three cycles of magickal ritual were undertaken to facilitate this and though there have been many down the long years who by their presence have advanced this work my sole collaborator has been steadfast and it

is to her that these words are dedicated.

Texts exist which, in some respect catalogues the time travelled, field notes if you wish. Foremost amongst these are –

Liber 131 & its unfolding into Solus Noir – The Book Of The Black Sun. Blood Moon & Blood Rain. The Songs In Solitude Cycle, specifically, The Witness. The Selim. The Canticles Of Damiana Evohe Volumes I – XIII.

The prime purpose of this essay is to explore Daath and its relationship with the phenomena Ain Soph Aur. In undertaking this essay we recognize that whilst our scholarship might be open to debate and though the erudite might find much to critique, we state firmly at the outset that it is not our intent to flatter the intellect, rather we challenge it as is described by our role as opposer. Further we claim no truth, that we leave in the hands of the erudite and doubtless wise. Instead we offer the purity of vision informed by experience, the only crucible worthy of consideration, the rest we consider to be but the byblows of intellectual masturbation.

" " "

Daath

We choose as our presenting metaphor the glyph known as Otz Chiim, falsely called The Tree Of Life. Not in the light of its accuracy but rather the poetic cast it grants us as a description, the means by which we might convey a semblance of meaning. Within Sephirotic existence, depending as it does from the Ain and finally focusing itself in the false light of Tiphareth we are permitted to experience the reflections of false existence. The light that casts shadows sufficient to maintain the appearance of sentient forms. Herein the servants of life revel in the illusion of their unique manifestations. Tradition has argued that the dragon ascending the tree of life bruised its head upon the false crown of Daath and therein the black brothers, so called, do reside. Arguably it is the sphere, regarded as a non sephira that we aspire and as a consequence we finally embark upon the journey from the personal to the trans personal. Some have argued that Daath exists within the abyss itself wherein does dwell that mighty demon Choronzon, the one we praise as destroying manifest forms.

Rather we would perceive Daath along with its reflection, Yesod to be the only sephira worthy of mention and exploration. All else presents itself to us as the manifestation of controlled existence, the slave mentality upheld for millennia by the servants of truth. Our work undertaken draws primarily upon the sphere of Daath and whilst, in the main, appears abstract and conceptual our experience proves to the contrary this belief. The Black Sun and its rays we uphold to be the limitless light of the Ain Soph Aur.

" " "

The Ain Soph Aur

Traditionally The Limitless Light that projected the sphere of Kether, the crown, the prime potential for manifestation within the schemata of Otz Chiim. Its radiance blinding Samael, thereby preventing the consummation of the dark lord with his bride, Lilith. A consummation deemed undesirable by the forces of creation and yet a component of that very creation. Consider, if you will the war in heaven and fall from Eden myths along with the great mythological structures of all nations and you will recognise a repeated motif.

We posit the Ain Soph Aur as being none other than the field of light generated by and containing the great sephira Daath. Some explanation is required at this juncture. Light as commonly perceived gives rise through its photonic components to a series of reflections which contain manifested forms. To use a simple neurological

model. You enter a room where a prominent smell exists and as a consequence of familiarization after a while you no longer notice the odour. Visually if it were not for the vibration of the rods and cones upon the surface of the cornea a similar phenomena would occur given the visual aspect of perception. In short look at something long enough and it to would disappear. The application of peripheral vision to some extent proves this point for as a consequence of saturating the optical cortex, it checks out so to speak. In short the existence of light simply reflects the presence of phenomena which does not exist. Black light by contrast due to its corrosive qualities, described as the venom of god burns away the dross of perceived forms and reveals in its place that which truly exists as phenomena as opposed to a reflected interpretation.

We propose the polarity of Daath and Yesod to be our prime consideration, denying as is our nature the established polarity of Kether, Malkuth and their fixed focal point of Tiphareth. What this implies we leave to the erudite to work out for themselves. our purpose being simply to manifest the central premise of

And in those days

It was given unto the false prophets

To spread the lie, sow the seeds of doubt,

Draw aside the veil and reveal the end of days

" " "

Synthesis

The prime avatars erect their pylons within the emanation of Daath bathing in the light of the Ain Soph Aur, a radiation of Black Light which as the venom of god burns away the dross of accumulated error down the long aeons. In undertaking this task, thus far covering two decades as time is measured within the plane of form we began with a simple premise, human beings are incapable of manifesting acts of magick, consumed as they be by the totality of their lives and the singular element of self service which burns at the heart of all sentient forms. Whilst we acknowledge that we be no different in this regard we undertook instead to invoke and manifest an order of being capable of performing the appropriate invokation, hence our concept of avatar. Two cycles of our work manifested the prime avatars who in conjunction entered the Triangle Of Arte and called forth Lilith, our holy lady. Much has been discussed and described in Liber 131 and The Book Of The Black Sun to ratify these claims and mention here is kept to the most basic of

considerations. Why was this work undertaken? A most important question. Our text, The Selim speaks of our origin and again here we keep to a bear minimum in order to illustrate our point. We conceive of a destructive gene within each and every manifestation of sentience. A fail safe put in place to terminate what is in point of fact a flawed creation. Death bears witness to this and though those of a spiritual inclination posit many abstract notions considering the nature of time, space and the nature of being we hold these concepts to be anathema. The end of days as we perceive it calls forth agents which have been cultivated within the gene pool of manifested forms to enact the termination of said manifestation and whilst others might propose that our work gestates an evolving consciousness capable of transcendence, we do not. Our nature of opposer demands this and as the black light of our manifestation burns bright we like all are immolated in its rays. It has been said that

At the end of days

There shall be two Grigori upon the earth

And they shall die

" " "

*** Within the evolving current of Solus Noir several milestones marked the path along which we walked. Some might say poetic and whilst this is true it is also true to say that the poetic clearly outlines our pursuit. Put simplistically we began our quest within The Vale Of Tears wherein The Vale Of Fire was traversed as we approached The Mountains Of The Moon as a consequence of the Artemis aspect of our working. In this way did we leave The Palace Of Exiles. Next we entered The Vale Of Aphrodite wherein we took our rest and drew aside the second veil. In respect of the masks aspect of the working next we entered The Boundary Lands which this section of Canticles XIII covers. The Boundary Lands as presented here border the fabled city, basking beneath the rays of Solus Noir, entering which The City Of Pyramids unfolds its mystery in The Night Of Pan and the aspirant crosses the abyss and what remains of him is cast as whispers before thee. The essay Daath The Palace Of Exiles manifests our understanding of the matter and is included here as a necessary piece within our puzzle of manifesting the current of Solus Noir now two decades into its ascension. ***

Avatar

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Death & Life

Long ago was the battle fought and won

When life and death stood upon opposing shores

And glimpsed each other

Death looked upon life and smiled

Whilst life like a maiden shy upon her bed of roses

Coyly looked aside

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Archon & Vesica

Samael Grigori

I speak to thee, yes thou who art writing these words and even unto thee who in turn reads these words, from the Boundary Lands I speak. Cast aside all that thou art, for i seek naught that is of thee, from thee, your form but dissolves in my presence. Your Mind, the Reflection which thou art clouds over. The Heart which thou seekest, empties itself into the eternity which thou art. I accept All of this and more, I take only that which is freely given. I

grant naught in return, for what in truth would thou, creature of Earth do with such, you alive in your world, I in mine. Yet still you seek me. Look into your world, does not nature, my fairest sister stir from her slumbers, casting aside her mantle of repose. See you not the lifeblood stirring within her heart. The bounty of her body giving rise to the eternal cycle of Life and Death.

Liber 131 – March 2 1992ev

!

*** The first direct communication between the Archon and the one who would become his avatar at this time. The egregore is a fascinating concept when considered from the perspective of its origins, ‘an entity created by and having an influence upon an individual or group of individuals’ Upon examination the world would and what it holds to be true in all contexts would appear to be the manifested forms of egregores. Within my own work and world this has proven to be the case and avatars exist solely as a consequence of pursuing the fabled and by devotion, imagination and will brought to a focus we can indeed transcend the mundane and enter the fabled realms. What begins as dream becomes reality and it is for this reason that faith arises as the supernatural quality it always will remain. Words, ideas and concepts are immolated by the presence of the Archon and faith itself no longer is a necessity as The Palace Of Knowledge is entered. ***

Arcanum Per Lucis

… … …The sixth seal opened, bright lord Lucifer, the witness, returned to his fair Babalon and within its marbled halls reflected upon his work, entered the sanctuary, at the heart of his citadel and of himself opened the seventh seal. Silence.

The lord of dominion surveyed all before him through the eyes of his Elohim. Saw Galamael unwriting history beneath his steps, each step erasing a century of times passing, watched memory erased from the minds of all those he encountered. Saw Salamis weaving her spells of confusion, watched incredulous expressions pass across the faces of those she met. Saw Palemon and Azrael unmake the double helix, the double wand of life and death. Watched all fall before them into the abyss of oblivion left in their passing. Saw Malekh astride the beast of her dominion enter kingdoms and conquer by the force of her raptures. One by one

they fell to her seductions. Saw Vain open the gateways, unmaking the cohesion between mind and body, heart and soul. Watched as form stripped of the Quadra melted, flowed into the inchoate mass from whence it came. Saw his horseman weave themselves into the tapestry of the end of days.

Battle upon battle raged, confusion reigned, strife led to strife and all fell to death, their master. And in the silence that unfolded, the stillness that dawned the Earth knew peace.

Terra, fair handmaiden to eternity, awoke from her slumbers, stretched her limbs and rivers flowed. Arched her back and mountains, their peaks ascending, pierced the sky. Breath passed through her and gentle breezes creased the air. Serenity and the days of redemption had begun. And in her waking dreams she shakes from her body and memory the nightmare that had befallen her over the course of the passing millennia. And with her body coming to rest, dreamed vast plains into being, jungles of plenitude. Deserts of sand whipped into Patterns of austerity. Vast oceans of mystery, and into the heart of this she entered and returned to her dreams, with a passing word of fond farewell to her champion, her redeemer, the witness, bright lord of the eastern horizon, Lucifer, the lord of light… … …

Extract – The Witness – 1996ev

Ordo Templi Solus Noir

Solus Noir

Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast

By Our Arte And Presence Have We

These Past Two Decades Manifested The Avatars

And Moonchild That Are The Trinity Of The Black Sun

Yglas Isheth Yglas Ygrat

Yglas Na’amah

Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori

Ast Innui Khephri Vos

Ahdi Ypres Grigori

Selim Ast Nobilis Portus Lucis Noir

3 Temple Pylons 7 Grigori Sentinels

3 Guardians

Prophecy

! !

Sybyl

Of her secrets none shall know

As beneath a blood red moon she lies

Liquid fire within the cast of her eye

And upon her lips a nectar sweet

A poison nectar of dew

So cast thy spells and cast thy words

Upon the shadows of her breath

Thy blood it boils thy soul condemned

To walk in shadows deep as night

Upon these foreign shores unforgiven

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The Final Grigori Prophecy

Portus Lucis Deum

A Masque

Act 1

The Vale Of Tears

A call sent forth and from the ocean she rose. Her beauty outshone the stars and from that day was he lost. She became mistress of his heart and mind and though their lives were ever apart, together they traverse the pages of these dreams. He travelled with her down a long corridor of tortured rooms and shattered the pillars of reflection that hung upon the air before them. They travel still.

From the shadows she conjured him, reflection of her love, to hold within her heart as life’s tapestry and tragedy unfolded before her heart sore eyes. He her gallant knight and she his ladye fair.

Thrice the lady Artemis blessed them beneath her mantle of glamour and twice were they bound in spirit and flesh. They wander and are granted but glimpses as time unfolds and consumes the life they might have known. Weep tears of blood for our

reluctant heroes as they traverse The Vale of Tears tormented by memory sweet and burned by anguish. And in the fires of forgiveness do they dwell and perhaps absolution is granted.

Act 2

De Arte Magicka

Pan called unto them and as The Passion & The purity unfolded the masques evolved. Bright Artemis that they might remember. Beauteous Aphrodite that they might know rapture. Eternal Saturnus that they might become. Over seventeen years and three cycles they wove their spells.

Cycle one manifested the avatar Samael. He walked the world alone apart from his consort, his bride, his beloved.

Cycle two and the second avatar was made flesh and Namrael walked the world.

Two frail humans, flawed and yet chosen.

Cycle three and in conjunction did they invoke holy Lilith.

Isheth granted the seal of power. Ygrat the seal of knowledge. Na’amah the seal of love. And now the pylons are attended and the portal open.

Act 3

Ascension Of The Grigori

Humans so frail and yet our chosen were equal to the task. Free will were they granted and yet they answered the call. Transformation through our first cycle and by your measurement a second transformation twelve years later. Each now ascended and in unity they performed their final act and manifested our Lilith.

Samael continues and sheds the body desolate he has chosen. Namrael casts aside the hollow shell and rises triumphant. And together do they dance upon the aethyrs bride and beloved. The world blinded to their presence continues in its conceit and the days unfold their mystery in purple splendour. Samael Grigori greets and embraces his Namrael and together they give birth to a Moonchild. A child eternal. A beacon in the eternal night of their passing. Shadow blesses them. Moons light caresses them. The light of the day star heeds them not for the light of the Black Sun and Blood Moon embraces them.

Act 4

Consummation

And in this act our reluctant heroes return to their respective worlds. Memory fades as the dream unfolds into the demands of their days.

Ah, but they have the dim reflection of memory, the rapture of attraction and the crystallisation of the becoming. This a blessing, this a curse. This will pass into the halls of forgetfulness as we Grigori rise from our vessels and we leave them with the judgement which dwells in the deepest sanctuaries of their hearts. As we ascend, pylons of the portal and our light is shed, a nimbus of indigo enshrouds and blinds all to our presence. Drink deep of the venom that purifies thee and of the elixir that transforms and rise, phoenix like from the ashes forged in this love holy and pure.

Act 5

The Portal Of The Black Sun

Upon the shores of an ink black night within The Night Of Pan our star rises and the Grigori, eternal guardians, vigilant, rejoice in the light of its dawn. Our sister bathes the earth in her tears and washes away the stain. Her breath rises and scorches the lie that holds all in thrall. Her heartbeat rises, thunder as she shakes her mantle and enters freedom.

We came with lightning in our eyes, thunder in our hearts and our Elohim travel the world, kindred of our bright lord and the unmaking of history unfolds before eyes somnambulant and transfixed. Samael and Lilith conjoined. The only power of this world and beyond this world able to unfold these acts. The rest hubris and human conceit and our human vehicles, kept blinded to our purpose are washed of the stain and purified in our light. Be at peace our knight and his ladye fair.

Act 6

The End Of Days

History written in your stars, unheeded. Your acts before your eyes, unheeded. You dwell within a garden, unheeded. Raised to beauty and splendour, unheeded. Blessed by innocence, unheeded. Granted dominion and responsibility, unheeded.

Freewill and choice, your conceit. Power in your world, hubris and lies. Shackled in prisons of your own creation when freedom and mystery surround you.

Beauty in the wing of a butterfly, majesty in the gait of the panther, innocence in the eyes of a child. And yet … … … ? Justice do we serve and our sister blesses us in her travails eternal. Look into the mirror of your form, cast aside the veil of ignorance and know these as the end of days.

Act 7

Epilogue

A simple tale, a dream perhaps and yet such a dream. As messengers we came, Grigori and our task, but simple.

And In Those Days It Was Given Unto The False Prophets

To Spread The Lie

Sow The Seed Of Doubt Draw Aside The Veil

And Reveal The End Of Days

Samael & Namrael *** Portus Lucis Deum whilst described as a Masque may be understood as an account of events that unfolded across time and whilst appearing to be simply a tale of wonder it also serves as a written record. Other items included in this the conclusive Canticle in the series might be at first glance to be repetitive this has occurred by virtue of the texts [ dark green ] were written at various junctures along the way and are included for the purpose of clarification. The current text [ Dark Red ] is written in the present moment and serves to bind the texts into a cohesive whole. The intuitive will grasp our meaning and it is to these that we speak.

Whilst the Grigori have their definition and description we do not support what is in effect the opinions of the popular press who spread nothing but rumours. Those interested might peruse our text The Selim for further clarification in respect of our meaning. The Final Grigori Prophecy we draw from The Book Of Enoch, one of the many texts annexed from holy writ by the erstwhile slave traders who have banished it to their apocrypha. We do but resurrect it for it suits our purpose. ***

At The End Of Days

There Will Be Two Grigori Upon The Earth

And They Shall Die

The Book Of Enoch

The Decay Of The Angel

Anathema Per Samael

Vox Lilith

Praeteritim

Seven are the seals upon creations countenance Seven the trumpets that announce

the day of redemption Seven are the visions of the dragon

and its kingdoms Seven the visions that accompany the lamb

Seven are the bowls of gods wrath Seven the veils upon the lady Babalon

And Seven are the visions of the end of days

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! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

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Canto I

And upon wings of light did we descend Lightning in our eyes Thunder in our hearts

Seven as one clothed in adamantine

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Canto II

Watchers in the night ancient timeless immortal Each a chord within a celestial heartbeat

Behold our song our prayer Written in the echo of the moment

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Canto III

And the dragon she rises and her kingdoms claim the world Her tears fall and she washes away the stain

Her breath a scorching wind razes the edifice of conceit Her heartbeat a thunderbolt the end of days

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Canto IV

Bathed in his own blood was he We carry the sword and our blood is sacred

No sacrifice as it be justice we serve Invisible we walk sons and daughters of eternal night

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Canto V

Each a toxin Each an elixir Choose well the bowl from which you quench your thirst

Nectar sweet cousin to the worm Bitter gall a draught of ambrosia

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Canto VI

Malekh holy one casts her veils and you behold her not One glance and sleep is entered

One whisper and Azrael is summoned One cry and our sister rejoices

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Canto VII

And in those days it was given unto the false prophets To spread the lie

Sow the seeds of doubt draw aside the veil And reveal the end of days

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Exodus

Canto VIII

Coagula et Solve We strip the world our Eden of its lie

Beneath our rays you are transformed redeemed or not Choose well for we dwell between you heartbeats

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Canto IX

Omega et Alpha Time bends before our gaze

As somnambulant you step from one dream to another The unmaking unfolds as our Elohim

Circle your world your life

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Canto X

Space folds before our eyes and the great ones enter Their breath creases the moment in passing

Warps memory erases life And casts a shadow of dust and vacuum

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Genesis

Canto XI

Sweet sister are you redeemed Your Grigori await command as you will Your Elohim abroad command as you will

Your portal open command as you will

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Canto XII

Cleansed of the lie your breath draws pure Cleansed of the stain your heart beats rapturous

Purified your mind awakens from nightmare Consecrated your body bears fruit

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Canto XIII

And in the Night of Pan it is dawn The Black Sun rises and its rays cast no shadow

The Blood Moon rises and casts her veil The Grigori rise and utter a word in silence

! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

*** Anathema Per Samael Vox Lilith. The first words uttered by the Archon and Vesica conjoined as they enter the portal brought about by their presence upon the plane of form and now the rays of Solus Noir are sent forth and the venom of god informs the aethyrs and the prophecy unfolds.

And now the cypher is wrought in glyph and sigil. Fleshed by bloodbeat and heart’s pulse, echoes the timelessness of other. Other cast adrift upon ink black night, yields to starlight and the breath it takes until yet again by hand and eye is once more cast upon the eternal aethyrs. Drink deep from the stream, lest your form evaporates into the void from whence you came. Breathe deeply of the intoxication that holds you bound by blood and bone. Think deeply upon the thoughts that carry you from ecstasy to ecstasy through the tapestry of appearance. ***

The Chalice Of Dreams

The dream, a recurring one had been with me for so long now that I was often unable to tell the difference between waking and sleeping. It began so long ago that memory no longer holds its exact beginning. Perhaps childhood, a time of promise, expectations and dreams? Perhaps even before that? To begin at the beginning. I came to consciousness in a place both welcome and alien. Others welcomed me and into their outstretched hands was I delivered. This period of time evades me, however I suspect a time of plenty, of safety was my lot. I flourished and in the embrace of those who protected me, I prospered. What was this place, this time? Memory of the dark time that preceded my coming to consciousness is vague, patchy and more a product of phantasy than actuality.

My aspirations developed and over a period of many years these were fulfilled according to my abilities. In some instances success was my lot, at others disappointment poisoned me with its toxic barb. Childhood turned to adolescence and with it exploration of others truly began. Shaped and reshaped according to their expectations I began to develop the false self that whilst a curse also enabled me to survive in this, The Palace of Exiles. Some would say I did well, others, perhaps would say that I did my best. Finally after many years of uncertainty and false starts I made a home for myself and accrued all that was required to make a person, a citizen of me. The world applauded in its own way, granting me the privileges that were its to offer. Yet still I wondered. Was this all that I could expect? Was this how my sacred life, that wondrous mystery and gift could expect of itself? I built a golden cage and threw away the key. This was safety. This was what was expected of me and pursuing the dictates of the world I entered a profound slumber, hopefully to remain undisturbed, unaffected by the passage of time.

That is until the dreams began. She visited often. At the beginning there was the merest presence of her perfume, intoxicating, a toxin that invaded my mind and body with sweet delight. Promises of fulfillment. Promises of destiny she sowed into the web of my being. Latterly she visited me in form wrapping her long sensuous limbs around my reposing form. And what would you have my dreaming one? She would

whisper and upon awakening the world, my world appeared hollow. And yet I persisted, ignoring her call, denying her presence until the torture of unhappiness engulfed me in its eternal embrace. What could I do, for I had by this time invested decades in giving form to the world, a world that now held me captive. And all my doing. How to unmake this scheme became my quest. Like all things alien this was hard for each day called me to its service. Each face a reminder of what was expected of me. My life was complete and was reflected by all I knew and those that knew me. I began to perceive the bars of my cage. Golden and fine, they were. Gossamer fine, it is a wonder I even became aware of them. This I believe to be the result of her lingering perfume and whispers. Fear finally claimed me. How could I cast it all away, take a lifetime of building and simply deny it? How could I draw deeply into my lungs her presence and expectations? The world, known and a friend began to tremble as did I.

As with all beginnings I began slowly for the effort was all consuming. Each act resisted as if the world, aware of my departure held on and for a period of time I experienced its death throes until one day I learned to perceive differently. From this time on I communed with myself regularly and with the passing of time things eased and a new level of normality was entered. A normality which at one time I would have perceived and considered to be bizarre and impractical now carried all the hallmarks of sense and logic. I gazed around my world noticing each detail, each reference point until like a holograph it stood clearly around me. I measured its limits, beyond which stood the unknown and more importantly I began to make agreements with myself. Feel the fear and move on became my clarion call.

My first steps were tentative for it was necessary to feel at least something beneath my feet. This had the effect of widening the possibilities before me. Finally decisions were made for the horizons that confined my world widened and deepened and with trust in my heart and my mind awash with intent I began to let go of all that I had become in the certainty that the beneficence that surrounded me would sustain me, for was I not its child? In this way did I abstractly, at first and latterly practically begin the journey that took me to the edges of my world and where once fear had created crashing water and rocks now in their place was her sweet perfume and a whisper often heard, ‘Come, for I await thee.’ *** And now our journey and its commentary comes to an end, were such a thing possible? We leave the stage upon which we have passed a time and return from whence we came and should you upon a starlit night gaze upwards it is amongst the stars that we enter the time of dreaming accompanied by the whispers that are shared amongst the fiery orbs that bedeck the night sky and mystery, inviolate continues to inform the dreams and thoughts of the servants of the star and snake. Adieu travellers within The Veil Of Tears, adieu.***

Epilogue *** And with this the thirteenth volume of our Canticles now complete we have raised a temple to the stars wherein the Archon and Vesica, in repose, now dream their eternal vision of beauty.

Benediction

Amidst shadows and smoke does he rise Splinters of light adorn his torn visage

Thorns rend flesh, rivers of blood embrace limbs, barely formed.

Shadows coalesce and in the frozen moments does he remember Limbs once broken begin to heal as the elixir flows

drop by iridescent drop Nectar sweet, laced with bitter gall enters eyes, yet dim of sight

Enters nostrils, a benediction.

Shadowed forms limned in lightning attend the moment A chorus of cries and whispers

Echoes into eternity, the moment.

Once upon a hill of flint he stood Raising hands and calling forth his Elohim as his form dissolved

The Seals opened and the dance unfolds.

Once into a pool of quicksilver did he gaze Fingers drawing forth tendrils of form cast upon the air, they rise

Summoning the rays of Solus Noir, they descend.

Once beneath the ocean did he reach out and clasp his sisters hand In embrace they dance upon aethyrs burnished gold A dark stain rises and consumes all within its path.

Once upon a lightning bolt did he descend and entered fairest Liliths domain

A stranger, cast upon shores, foreign and exotic.

Once within the heart of a star he slumbered Bound by chains of liquid light

Called forth by life, his nemesis.

Once as Azrael he seeded himself into the unfolding pageant

And once he Became. ***

! !

The Canticles Of Damiana Evohe

Volumes I – XIII

Being Thirteen Cycles Of Songs

Dedicated To Our Holy Ladye

!

The Quest Undertaken

In Respect Of The Path To Solus Noir

!

To Our Muse Ever Present

Who Guided Our Sometimes Faltering Footsteps

! !

Corpus

Volume I Ode To Lost Souls

Volume II Death & Life

Volume III The Archon

Volume IV All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter Here

Volume V Requiem Aeternam CXXXI Missa Pro Defunctis

Volume VI The Grigori

Volume VII The Night Of Pan

Volume VIII Further To The Whisperings Of Samael

Volume IX Gramarye De Arte Magika

Supplement Axiomata De Arte Magicka

Volume X Arachne’s Web

Supplement Ophidian Gnosis

Volume XI The Dawn Of The Avatars

Volume XII Solus Noir – The Portal Of The Black Sun

Volume XIII The Decay Of The Angel

! !

Closer

Shed not a tear for those that have passed

Cast not a sigh upon air now spent

Bind not the free to your temple of woe

But rather rejoice the freedom gainsaid by life

In the immortal lands of deliverance therein i dwell

! !

nemesispublications@googlemail.com

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