Old Night by 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
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