Dedication

The life of a poet, at best perfect as was that of Keats and Dante is a rarity and remains a mixed blessing for the majority.

The life of a Bhakhti yogin at best blessed by the presence of the priestess who serves as the manifestation of the goddess dedicates their life to service and in the autumn of their days celebrates the presence.

The life of a Magickian at best fueled by vision claims their seat within the fabled city and passes into glory by Grace alone.

The above, stripped of artifice serves as a valid description of a singular life, a life whereby in absentia our erring footsteps have been guided along a path that though it cost us our life has rewarded us with the elixir of vision, the fruit of which manifests as our Axiomata, the fusion of text, image and sigil which serves as our prime vehicle for manifesting the current Solus Noir.

As Samael our task is fulfilled and during these days we but address the record of that which has revealed itself to us and in this instance give thanks to our Namrael who fueled both our work and ourselves by virtue of her presence.

Dakini incarnate we celebrate both your energetic manifestation and the vessel that encapsulates it and dedicate our Axiomata to your unwavering spirit.

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000

The Fool’s Quest

“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread” or so they say, for only fools possessed of Innocence and Grace may walk the path long denied to angels who became the minions of man long ago and as such, en masse, fell from grace. Yet a man embodies the particular species of fool we allude to here. An apparent contradiction resolved by a simple understanding, an understanding fleshed in the crucible of knowledge and experience. Our base premise ‘man is incapable of performing true acts of magick’ by virtue of their self serving and self referencing methods of conceiving and executing their intent. The I, a closed loop system remains that and it has no boundaries through which it may pass without reducing itself to the obvious. Such is mans fall from grace. In the light of this how is the fool to enter upon and traverse the path that transcends the human description? In answer, again a simple understanding, cease to be a human being. An outlandish concept at best and at worst the product of a delusional mind and yet the few who have entered this domain, some by intent, some by chance, they alone will grasp our meaning. Strip a human being of all that pertains to living a ‘normal’ life and the smoke that rises from the ashes encapsulates the spark of consciousness that pertains to the divine. The alchemists of old grasped this as did the few that may be truly called adepts. The fool who scribes these words in the present pursues a path that though humble in its beginnings has evolved over a lifetime into a vehicle that fleshes the archetypal energies that are the matrix of all that pertains to aspiration. The man, a fool becomes an avatar and in time serves as archon within a body of knowledge which though individual in its expression serves as a metaphor for the fulfillment of a personal myth. Jung once stated that ‘modern man lacked a myth.’ This fool rectified the matter in a single lifetime and whilst being beyond hope celebrates the fruit plucked from the vine of vision. Adieu.

00

Dakini

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.’

0

Yea Though We Walk

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 thy 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 One kiss granted benediction One kiss denied eternal longing

Reflection dark shadows rise a mist of amber stained blood red Lightning burns eyes long weary Thunder subdues a 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 lay 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

! 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 !

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1

The Bride Stripped Bare

Vide Cor Meum

E pensando di lei. Mi sopragiunse uno soave sonno. Ego dominus tuus. Vide cor tuum. E d'esto core ardendo. Cor tuum. Lei paventosa. Umilmente pascea. Appresso gir lo ne vedea piangendo. La letizia si convertia. In amarissimo pianto. Io sono in pace. Cor meum. Io sono in pace. Vide cor meum.

And thinking of her sweet sleep overcame me. I am your master. See your heart and of this burning heart your heart obediently eats. Weeping I saw him then depart from me. Joy is converted to bitterest tears. I am in peace. My heart. I am in peace. See my heart.

Patrick Cassidy

Based on Dante's La Vita Nuova

Specifically the sonnet A ciascun'alma presa in chapter 3

2

The Annunciation

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Liber 131

The Passion & The Purity

Cycle 1 1990 – 1992 The Dawn Of The Avatar

Liber Astarte vel Beryli – The Passion And The Purity

In this way did we manifest Samael, principal Grigori amongst the legions of the living. Bereft of his bride, tormented beyond the ability to conceive did he complete the initial tasks, reaching their culmination in the words of The Witness, our seeding into the world of what was to follow.

Cycle 2 2003 – 2004 Namrael

The manifestation of our Grigori sister

In this way did we complete the preparations and placed the avatars within the temple of our working.

Cycle 3 2006 – 2007 Lilith Rising

The Portal Of Solus Noir – The Black Sun

Entering our sacred triangle of power did Samael and Namrael conjoined invoke beloved Lilith and complete the cycle of our making, to manifest the portal and let its rays shine forth.

Trinity 2008

We wove the matrix of our spells and seeded them into the prime elements of nature, extending our Triangle Of Arte.

The Final Grigori Prophecy 2010

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3

The Avatars