Gnosis Kardias (of Transcension and Involution)
1. The Innermost Disillusion
A worthless island in the lake of cold, the wholeness
broken by the power of higher laws. If unable to grow, a
one is sentenced into depths, into endless dark night
when the other self must awake
All I see and seem is but a dream within streams of creation
- sediments of falsities growing upon the well of illusion.
The shapeless eternity reflects in a soul (the seed of
essence) and yet the ramifying spring of artificial being
perceive what once was before the alpha, the genesis and
the aeon per se.
The essence trapped in a body remains blind to
manifestations of great cycles and deaf to a voice of
numinous. Struck mute by the horror of the great other,
unfeeling of the vibrations divine, Murder your senses
and read from the books that have never been written,
seen and tainted. Accept fruits from the tree of ideas
forbidden to the sane that grows in the aphotic
nether world nourished by despair of all that has ever
lived and will live.
Is the awareness of one`s self necessary for the creation?
And does it therefore precede time and matter? Or
everything governed by the neuron`s calculations (a
holonomic illusion upon a wall of senses and dualities)? If
so, the extinction is necessar, the void calls…
In the cyclic atrocity of the new world we are buried
alive in decaying bodies. As we gaze into the fractal
nothingness we are still flooded by perception of our
2. Abysmal Cacophony
The infinity loses its notion of time and slowly begins to
count again. The creator is trapped in the cyclic
labyrinth of his own images. The renewal leads only to
further distress and teh end comes in waves.
The unity imprisoned in seeming infinity is now motivated
only by the urge to seek its own ego for itself. And even
the immaterial beings are condemned to this hell, like us,
who dwell in the three-dimenional space of platonic
A glimmering flame of countless of existences, stars and
minds that end with a whimper. The funeral silence is
disturbed by the bang of the single spark and all is
consumed by flames of ekpyrosis. But if vermin is given a
chance to glimpse what lies beyond the zenith, is it truly
possible for a spirit devoid of shapes to abandon the shell?
Devouring the sun, darkening the world the auguring
nought reveals „all“. The microcosmic divinity expands
beyond the veil of time towards conterminous
Ominious, horrifying information that has longe since
wasted its sense and meaning circulates the mind like
incandescent needles when the one drowned in fire,
permeated with radiance, deafened by the prayer seeping
from the shapeless eternity, faces the unborn.
There, where all is something yet nothing. Where the
truth cannot be embraced. There we all shall, deprived of
memory, stand, consumed in the glory of great metatron.
3. Upheaval of Silence
„God, Give me the night of your blind man`s eyes!“
It is better to share the punishment of Sisyphus than to
experience the agony of awakening when travailing
throught a maze of experiences upon the mountain of
sacrifice to purify one`s insight. The mount of
configurations of salvific toil that is bound to collapse soon.
A torturous yoke around the neck of a being – ignorance,
lust, passion and fear – courses down and ascends like the
living fire. Threshold by threshold, death follows
another death and then it is free to descend into a
mystery deeper than depth itself. The silence begins to
In depths of shadow and light, in echoes of life`s enigma,
within the walls of space and mechanism of tme, upon the
inverted bottom of heaving silence; here I know, assume
and sense nothing and in this motionless vision, in ecstasy,
I fall deeper and deeper, penetrating the inner void, into
the depths of absence, within the network of thoughts.
Upwards and donwards through the blackness of mind.
The sulphurous spark in souls of the high burns mightly
with the urge to destroy the gates closed shut since the
beginning of time; the innards of the prime mover and the
mesh of causual reality. Impelled by the inner inferno, I am
not wanted here.
And from the bottom I dissapear in the fullness of state
where there are no dreams, guilt, punishment or uproar.
The living torch carried into another dimesion where I
witness the first counterparts and the rebirth of stars.
By invoking the darkness, the light is evoked. Into the
profound tranquility of the mysterious mother`s
embrace we tread
4. Ω ≻ 1 (Oscillation in Timelessness)
The fount has been poisoned and the each new stream is blacker than the one before. The place where I shall find the most distant horizon has been subverted and penetrated by a malignant divinity, the one delimited by powers of laws and principles ramifying into delta of all possibilities.
When the unwanted foetus desired to see its own image, the reflexions proliferated further in the amniotic fluids of nothingness. Lo! The first breath of the universe. The pulsating abscess of the frothing quantum (the seed of matter) becoming existence. Now the cycle is bound into a vicious circle of unsubstantiality.
We see the spiral basis of the universe, of dark becoming light and light collapsing into darkness. The ichor from the cosmic womb deforms the web of space and through the black mouth we learn of the black words signifying the fate of macrocosm that heralds the death of all. Even of Death itself.
In sacred waters of nothingness eternal was your strife. By the quiver of spectral Acherontia's wings the reality dissolves into a seething cataclysm. Alas, the infinity loses the notion of time and begins to count again.
Through the temple-like eye of cosmic consciousness we stare at what itself stares at us across the human paradigm of inner purpose.
5. Gate-eye of Fractal Spiral
The entropic will of cosmos turns us into dust as the crushing murk expands within realms. (The vision of) fractal emptiness is drowned in the infinity of voices and the dimensional fissure incurves beyond another horizon.
Strangled by light in the sea of madness. Torn from the womb of the other sun. A pulsating flash comes from the seething void and the atrophied world begins to measure its time.
Life itself suffocates in this sea of worms. The horizon turns and becomes everything. I taste metal in a place where the mouth used to be as the prayer for light ordains the fall.
Anointed in the ash of the planet Earth, in the endless uproar of infinity of voices, a man creates a spine of the perverse god. The anthropic principle denotes a time wasted. Nuclei of dead stars vibrate, yet only the greatest shall offer a glimpse through the discord within symmetry, the act of malicious will that binds the cosmos, forevermore.
6. Orison for the Baneful Serpent
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