Temptor Princnegsur

THE BOOK OF SASSSTIA

by Temptor Princnegsur

Text Copyright © 2014 Temptor Princnegsur

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or uti-

lized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, wi-
thout permission in writing from the publisher.

All illustrations and photographies by Temptor Princnegsur.

Translated from the original Spanish manuscript by Akherra
Phasssmatanás.

Layout & Design by Kayley Hill and Fall of Man.

www.fallofman.eu
“e Book of Sassstia”, as well as the lyrical testimony of “Faraón”: (Testimonio
de Esferas Superiores e Inferiores al Sol)1, the lyrical testimony of “Gevurahel”:
(Conocedores del Bien y del Mal, Parte I y II) and (Un Obscuro Ego Celestial)2,
span the documented preaching and celebration which address a first period of
manifestation of “Lucifer” as the prince of the rebel angels in the private life of
Temptor Princnegsur through his Envoy “Sassstia”, who not only offered him
testimony of the reality of the beings of the Spiritual World, but chiefly granted
him the verity of the ontological truth of “Satan and his retinue of demons” in
these present times poisoned by Atheism and conformist Hedonism. For, what
are “Satan and his retinue of demons” if not spiritual beings, “Enemy Adversa-
ries” of “God and his angels”? For the question of “Satan”, of whether we are de-
aling with a real being or merely a symbol, is the chief cause for division among
Satanists.
Only, if “Satan” is a truly existing being with a history of his own and a philo-
sophy of his own, what then is the history and philosophy of Anton Szandor
LaVey, taken for the founder of “Satanism”, in the face of the history and philo-
sophy of “Satan” himself as a being older than the World and man and as the
true father of “Satanism”? And by the primary consequence which concerns us

1
"Pharaoh": Testimony of Spheres Superior and Inferior to the Sun.
2
"Gevurahel": Knowers of Good and Evil (Part I & II) and An Obscure Celestial Ego.
as Satanists, what then would “Satanism” truly be according to its true founder?
e insinuations are terrible and are meant for those who would ponder over
these implications. Yet these philosophical-religious questions are implicit to a
second stage of manifestation of “Lucifer” as the prince of the rebel angels in
the life of Temptor Princnegsur, but one which he engages today as Nimrod Re-
belsoberliber, as one of and alongside “e Devil's Amanuenses” (the visible
and earthly part of “Es.Dev.Re.Sa.”), certainly independent of the first stage of
manifestation by no longer consisting of sundry testimonies, but instead evol-
ving into a concise “Satanic Spiritual Revelation”, an access to the “Diabolical
Doctrine” which seducing spirits teach unto those who apostatize from the Faith
in “God and his angels”, such as it
was implied in 1 Timothy 4:1, a
real transmission of the Corrupted
Wisdom of “Lucifer”, the event ta-
king place within the intimate
bosom of “Es.Dev.Re.Sa.” from the
beginning of the year 2009.
“e Book of Sassstia” is a set of
writings comprised of eight parts,
forty eight sections and two ope-
ning prologue letters which, re-
maining faithful to the very
references given by “Sassstia”, consist of:
- A testimony of the realities and natures of a number of souls that suc-
cumb on Earth, disincarnate seven symbolic days of “God” ago. (?)
- A proof of the renascent movement of the vengeance of the ancient
evil kings of the lands of Edom. (?)
- A storm of symbolic confusion of Good and Evil in their eternal
tyrannies but in a favourable sense for those who know it not, heed in their fo-
regoing prescription. (?)
- A body of tales of symbolic stories of exiles and hidden plaints. (?)
- A play for those who take with severity and comprehended studies,
but a link to return to a time in which they were kings and sovereigns those
who would take these scriptures with stupidity and partake of some game knoc-
king on the Gate. (?)
e intention of presenting “e Book of Sassstia” does not simply consist in
disclosing a private and isolated period of manifestation of “Lucifer” in the life
of Temptor Princnegsur through his Envoy “Sassstia”, it consists in documenting
in some respectful manner an event which we believe to be important in the
history of today's “Satanism” such as the birth of “Satanic Spiritism”; a Dialogue
through Direct Correspondence with “Satan and his retinue of demons”.
It consists in symbolically capturing, through the publication of “e Book of
Sassstia”, the starting point and origin of “e Line of Progression” of the Satanic
spiritists, comprised today by “e Devil's Amanuenses” (who are the visible
and earthly part of “Es.Dev.Re.Sa.”), yon event taking place with Temptor Princ-
negsur between the years (1998-1999).
e method through which Temptor Princnegsur has received “e Book of
Sassstia” may be known as “Psychography”, or particularly, Mechanical Psycho-
graphy. But if by the very word of Sassstia we should remain true to the essence
of the occurrence of events, then this term is erroneous and lo here “e Writing
of the Devil”, for it was the Devil himself whom has been called up and it is the
Devil himself who has answered through his Envoy. And lo here then the first
harbinger referent to those whom later “Kasbeel” would through Magdna Siagd-
nadaelivis baptize as "e Devil's Amanuenses" within the intimate bosom of
"Es.Dev.Re.Sa.”: “ose who write under the dictation of the Devil”.
By way of prejudice, from knowing what to expect on the part of those who give
priority to their minds' associative capacity before knowing how to receive what
is actually meant, is that if Temptor Princnegsur may well be regarded as a sim-
ple writing medium within the occult scene of self-pretended authority in kno-
wledge, (and one should well know how to distinguish between that which a study
of conscious individual spiritual evolution implies, between “Psychology” and
“Magic”, from the study of the ontological truth of spiritual entities with relation
to demons and of the events that have occurred between them which have been
recorded in the sacred books as in the myths and legends of ancient peoples), by
comparing him, for example, with the writing medium Chico Xavier, then in
reality Temptor Princnegsur is not a medium divested or totally naked of the
dignity and Satanic superbia of the ceremonial rituals required to come in con-
tact and communication with the Prince of the spirits who are the adversaries
and enemies of “God and his angels”. Nor is he a medium divested of the Zeal
and of the importance of the secret so as to go around denigrating the art of
“Satanic Spiritism” in public reunions, surrounding himself with shallow people
who are ignorant of the true purpose and of the matters of the Forbidden Art.
For it is about the birth and the first stage of formation of an “Amanuensis of
the Devil”, with everything that this implies.
And with regard to the difference between a traditional spiritist from a Satanic
spiritist, Temptor Princnegsur never had the intention or the inner verve of co-
ming in contact with the souls of the dead, nor with the spiritual beings who
have founded the Spiritism of Kardec. Nor with the angels or ascended masters
who are the founders of the White Lodge, but solely with the evil spirits of the
World Above, likeness and incarnation of the “Devil”, “Satan”, such as it is men-
tioned in Ephesians 6: 11-12. For the heart of Temptor Princnegsur only aspired
to come in contact and communication with yon Shining Star which has fallen
from Heaven to the Abyss by feeling its call within his interior, strongly seeing
himself as a spiritual son.

So then, what is “Sassstia”?

What we can say, in a very essential yet very basic way at the same time, is that
“Sassstia” is a spirit. An immaterial being in the sense that it is not composed of
any of the substances which make up the Material Universe, yet endowed with
individuality and personality, will, intelligence and freedom. And it is in accor-
dance with the will of Temptor Princnegsur, by the intention projected in the
effective evocation and being true to the context in which “Sassstia” manifests
that he is not a soul, meaning that we are not dealing with an immortal spiritual
substance belonging to a man or woman who has perished. Nor is it an elemen-
tal or a nature spirit, be it a salamander, an undine, a sylph or a sprite; neither
is it an angel, a spiritual being in the service of “God”. Nor an ascended master
of any of the forms of the White Brotherhood. Just as it is not any extraterrestrial
being flying in its spaceship of superior technology which avails itself of the
New Age mediums.
For, “Sassstia” is really and essentially a demon. One of the angels that was hur-
led by “God” into Hell, and a minion of “Satan”. A caco-daemon...

So, who is then “Sassstia”?

“Sassstia”, according to and faithful to his line of manifestation here on Earth,
is the demonic spirit who has manifested unto Temptor Princnegsur as the very
answer of “Lucifer” as a reward to his intuition for knowing in his interior that
he is a truly existing being, as well as a reward for his continuous pursuit of
wanting to come in communication with “Lucifer” as the first rebel, to confirm
his belief in an empirical manner, shewing him tokens of his being and of his
verity as well as of the very consequences of his presence, with “e Book of
Sassstia” being thus a small commemoration of his manifestation and “Sassstia”
himself being the spiritual entity who represents the first period itself of the ma-
nifestations of “Lucifer” in the private life of Temptor Princnegsur.
Lo here then that it is in honour of this first stage of manifestation of “Lucifer”
that we present “e Book of Sassstia” thanks to our Friend and Brother Akhe-
rra Phasssmatanás, who through his liaison with “Fall of Man” has opened the
path for the publication of this commemorative Book of the beginning of the
terrestrial line of the Satanic spiritists, and we leave to the idiosyncrasy of each
reader the free perception of these events here commented and insinuated and
registered since the year (1998-1999) to (2008).
And from the year (2009) to the present and in intense activity within the inti-
mate bosom of “Es.Dev.Re.Sa.”. All be in the name and for the veneration of
“Satan and his retinue of demons” manifested in a real and effective manner
here on Earth.

“Ave Satanás”.

Without further ado, our cordial salutes.

“Es.Dev.Re.Sa.” is a Revelation…

{N.R.}

16th of May, 2014.

Phratry
“Es.Dev.Re.Sa.”.
 And so great was my deception with the world, that when I turned my sight in-
wards, I believed myself to be a fallen angel in a mortal body, captive(!), for I will
have been the worst of them all!
And in my arts you will see my wings outspread.
But this is my secret.
Because I possess the eyes of a man, but I do not see as a man.
I possess the warm human heart, but I do not content myself with human folly.
And yet, my path lies in the midst of men.
And I called with strength, and I called intensely, that perhaps, there were within
other bodies, brethren angels, but I had answer none.
Alone I find myself, truly.
And my path am I before God in a great unending battle until the last of my days
on this Earth, amidst many who love me and others who hate me, but who have
never understood that what I am is pure love of the heights dark and profound.

e Book of Sassstia was not written to create an image and a mental concept
simply by way of its reading, but to convey an experience which is verily alive,
that each heart will be able to recognize and mould according to its own expe-
rience. is experience, on account of my own, will be for some very beautiful,
but certainly for others it will be dangerous and evil. For each Section of the
Book is not one evocation, but countless, and such Sections were not assembled
without a great stretch of will, patience and dedication, as well as enduring all
sorts of negations, defiance, controversies, sarcasm, humiliations and psycho-
logical attacks, and even attacks on those around me, provoking their estrange-
ment from my life. And an accumulation of that which I in my own language
call 'black energy', which they themselves throw off when manifesting, lodging
itself within my body, provoking all sorts of perturbations and internal pains,
as much in my bones as in my limbs and organs; weakening my health in great
measure, according and in relation to the way I know myself to be: of sound
and strong health. From these circumstances we can deduce that if someone is
not of sound health, be it mental, spiritual or physical, he or she will easily fall
without remedy in the whirlpools of the energies which they cast off, conferring
the warnings given by Sassstia authenticity, the threats being no folly.
But the important thing which is underscored here, is the reality of the coin
itself and not one or the other of its opposite sides, for e Book of Sassstia has
the power to awaken awareness, from that which "God" is not to that which
"God" pretends to tell us by way of his caveats and threats with regard to the
condemned.
A man of scientific character may attain unto the experience of e Book of
Sassstia, free from all bias marked by the selfsame Book, insomuch as it may be
subjective, but he is forewarned that the experience of the Book is never false
in its essence.
e Book of Sassstia was not made to violate the innocence of the foolish, but
one stands warned that it has the power to make it mature abruptly. For is it not
better late than to never pass through this life without being able to li, even
for an instant, our thoughts and heart which are obfuscated by a reality that is
imposed on our consciousness, to some hidden heaven, if not through blind
and brute faith, through the ken of something which does not belong to heaven,
but which by analogy will make us fall to sound reason of its probable existence
with all the tenebrous implications that this carries?
It was said that 'the Truth shall set you free', but from my own experience I say
unto you, that if any of you should fall on your knees before the Truth which
lies behind e Book of Sassstia, you may lose your freedom forever.
Both a godless superman or yet a man of common existence are also able to
make use of their entitlement to the experience of e Book of Sassstia, but I
must warn you that under and within these contexts, you will be treated as any
other and are subject to heed the warnings given by Sassstia himself. For, soon
aer reading e Book of Sassstia and knowing the very experience which it
carries, crossing the boundaries drawn by the warnings given by the Book, fa-
lling in an uncontrolled fascination, an intimate friend uttered her following
words: “It would be well that everyone could read this Book, but no one knocked
on the door." For they are the ashes of yon ancient world scattered about all of
the Earth. As yon beginning, which is but a continuity, was not born if not of
an end. Of a terrible and destructive end of that ancient world from whose re-
mains the elder gods as though a God created the heavens and the earth. A be-
ginning in which all was confusion and darkness covered the deeps, whilst the
spirit of the gods moved over the face of the waters, which were as the defeated
corpse of the enemy Liwyathan.
is was the seething panorama soon aer the battle nefast.
e confusion and the darkness which fled to the chasms were the horrendous
sons of the great fallen one, the darkness that managed to survive of the old era.
And there, nowhere, without, on the outside, hidden, they beheld with excessive
pain the foundation of the new order, silently awaiting. And it happened that
of the pristine fire of Chaos were born all of the angels and genii who would be
the overseers of the new order.
e light that should quell the darkness, the enemies eternally named "the sea
and the night", for the sea was assigned boundaries, and the night should give
way to the light.
is is the world that lies outside the laws of time and space, a world inhabited
by strange beings and mysterious forces, yet beholden to God, but free to cho-
ose, to act and to quest their own initiatives; that is, to own themselves or submit
to the inspirations of God. us, all of creation went burgeoning according to
the voice of the gods, which was their expression. For do not words carry in
themselves the thought and expression of what something is within? And by
the word was all made and nothing came to be without it. And it happened that
from the defeated corpse of Liwyathan they made the heavens. And all was har-
mony.
But it came to pass that God wanted to culminate the work with something that
would bring confusion to the celestial order. God imagined man, and the angels
and genii were confounded, for they knew that men would be born of the co-
arsest material of the dead one. But God wanted to give men high authority on
the Earth and fire should be brought under and serve them. is brought great
questions between the angels who knew fear and the unsatisfied heart towards
the creator gods. And it happened that those who lurked in the deeps felt at-
tracted by the smell which rose up from the confusion. But, they waited…
Of the subtle dust of the earth, God made man with breath and life. From the
breath of the gods and the spilt blood of the enemy, man is born. God then con-
fronted the angels by presenting man before them and contested their sciences.
For never for no reason would God subject the angels without showing them
why. For God had granted men the power to give names unto things, sacred
science which the angels themselves knew not, and granted men the secret of
creation which he had not revealed to his celestial armies nor to the beings of
purest fire. Yet despite being inferior in science, many of the angels would not
cease to see in man impurity and treason. ey said: "In what should fire blush
before clay?". And this angered the gods who saw themselves reflected with love
in the creatures of subtle clay and inquired the angels who with pride beheld
men and gave no tribute of respect. "What happens? Are ye not capable of hum-
bling your pride?". e angels replied: "Forgive us Lord of the Universe, you
know very well before anyone how much we love thee, but we are better than
men from being born of light, why prostrate ourselves before that which is un-
clean? You well know that because of men the earth will suffer, and between
themselves they will shed their blood. So then, why dost thou love them above
us?" God answered: "e law is Love, Love is all surrender, and he who loves
will suffer." "What is Love?", some angels exclaimed, now standing back. "We
have the entitlement to not suffer". God then replied: "If you do not love, you
will come to be something worse than that which you despise".
And the angels, with all the grief and with all bewilderment, said unto themsel-
ves, "so mote it be. e dead one, the dead one, our vanquished father is resur-
ging in the new order, we can feel it, the smell of confusion, vengeance will be
raised against the creation and God".
us did darkness whisper in the chasms.
It was then that the gods perceived a movement of inspiring nature of that
which, later on, men would call "Satan", in the progeny of heaven. For which
they would need be expelled because of this characteristic blemish in their de-
meanors. Saith God: "It is not proper of your nature that you should wax proud.
You are being disdained. at is why you must take leave from the holy place.
You have waxed unfaithful to my will." us the angels replied: "Do not allow
for us to perish by being averted from you, our Lord, since you are the source
of all being. Let us remain in respite until the cyclic end of creation".
And God has allowed them...
And so it happened that the angels, once aloof from God anathematized them-
selves, saying: "We shall waylay the servants of clay and lead them astray. We
shall be the Tempter. We shall alter the creation of God, the evil shall be beautiful
and comely and everything that is good shall be spat and downtrodden. We are
now obfuscated by God, but we shall pitch camp upon the sacred pathway of
the communion between men and God. We shall besiege from the right and
from the le, by the front and by the rear, and with black art we shall summon
them. God shall find no faithful, but we shall fear him. We shall exterminate all
the progeny of men."
It was then that God took man and lay him in delights where he could joy in
his own plain liberty, eating and drinking of that which to his eyes was palatable,
but not from the tree which belonged to the revolted angels who were now per-
verse. is tree was a gate to a universe that contains all of the knowledge of
good and evil, where all is ambiguous and in constant changes, where the sha-
dows of the old world and the angels that rebelled against the new order could
act with total liberty, and it is well known what has happened... With cunning
the angels perverse set the path for the rancorous sons of Liwyathan. For it is
known from the ancient knowledge that they desire to inherit what is rightfully
theirs from their ill-fated extinct father. And 'tis that the subtle fluids of the bo-
dies of men as the blood that flows through their veins are this heirloom. Were
this claim not rightful, God would have never allowed it. And the seal of this
concession of God of the communion betwixt men and demons is yon robe of
skin with which the gods have reveted men aer these have assented to the sum-
mons of the Devil, the Serpent. God pacted with the demons saying: "Ye the
black sons of the vanquished Chaos may have a right over men by and through
the dust of the ground upon which you spectral crawl, which is the essence of
this world and from which their flesh is derived with the forces that are hidden
within it. Yet I, God Almighty, shall have the right to call as many men as I will
by and through the breath which I have insufflated in them that comes from
my own spirit." ey lie underneath the earth, intimately bound to everything
created: life, space, time, sex, galaxies, and even unto the very spiral of the code
of life: DNA. ey whisper unto the mind and the heart of the soul through the
flesh that is the domain of this energy that lies beneath all matter. Matter which
has been the body of the dragon serpent. ey are always bidding us to get away
from the celestial legions of God Almighty. For the subtle fluids as well as the
blood which compose the bodies of men instinctively move seeking to return
to the evil source from which they have come forth, dragging those who in their
innocence are unaware of it.
However, there are those who do know and who by their own volition become
a sort of wellspring of the sons of the ancient world, for they are the remnants
of the ancient world. God could never fully quell them. ey are amongst us,
they suck our blood, for it is that which they must take. But no one can see them.
ey are the man of the netherworld, they belong to the abode of the dead. ey
are always sad and are shunned from any joy, and when they so desire they come
to our world flying, falling as rain from above, and they rise as mist from the
earth. And doors do not keep them, locks do not ward them off. ey slide
through doors as serpents, they enter through the windows as winds. ey are
the spirits of possession. ey enter through the head. ey enter through the
heart. ey enter through the forehead. ey enter through the breast. ey
enter through the bowels. ey are Telal, those who grip the hand of one who
writes. eir names went changing through the ages but they are always the
very ones.
Beware of your innocence born of the ignorance of the present times. Insomuch
as the simple game of the Ouija board, even as the game of the cup of the foolish
ones is not least a door. And see that the simple dance in rounds is also a door,
and do not vouch for science who in her blindness laughs as she nowhere finds
them. Bear well in mind that they do not have the weight of even an atom, but,
if they so wish and you are within their reach, they will snuff your life without
wavering...

e art descends from the beginnings of the times, and it has taken many forms.
It has flooded out of the riverbeds of the authorities of Occultism and is no lon-
ger only in the hands of self-proclaimed adepts. It lies out of control. Or better
should I say, that it lies under a strange and suspicious control. Outside of the
lines of the religious and spiritual authorities. It seeks to travel and to bide out-
side all of the established structures. It travels in the guise of juvenile games,
imperceptible to the nonchalant and the shallow ones. It waits and seeks to lodge
itself in the heart and in the mind of those who are apt to receive it...

And I, Temptor, am one of the victims who has been devoured by the roaring
Lion… (1 Peter 5: 8).

Temptor Princnegsur.
Circa the end of 2007.
 Opening Chronologer I

At any time whether in the day or in the night in which these scriptures are in
the possession of mortal hands they are watched by their rightful guardians.
e contents of these scriptures are not composed by great writers but by true
witnesses to these.
e testimonies are not related by historians but by the true descendants of
em.

e scribe.

Opening Chronologer II

e souls that succumb on Earth and who gave testimony of their realities and
natures made themselves known under the names of:

-Equimel.
-Rosas.
-Liana.
-Beinme.
-Eleonor.

ese souls who assever to have disincarnated seven symbolic days of God ago
claim to have been spurred by the regents of the dread angels to whom God
gave captivity on Earth, and that never in these terms did they give manifesta-
tion of em…

e scribe.
 Part One, Section One

-I feel dread…! We are all sons of the gods, but not all are sons of God. How do
I know that I am terrible and evil or good and pure?

-My son…! I know what you are trying to tell me. All the gods are sons of God,
but not all of us are darksome. No more... We are as we are and not as the Father
would have us.
And such is the marvel of the Lord Almighty. It is a work of equal deception as
it is of truth. One need not but to know all that is good and all that is evil so as
to not fall into his foul play of ambiguity. en He weeds you from the Earth
and you are never born again. God!, God is like you and like me. And like all,
and nothing outside ourselves He exists. Satan alone is emperor, and he is the
devourer of light, and nothing remains, nothing!, save He.

e scribe.

Part One, Section Two

H we were perfect but he never loved us. We were fire gold of the purest, but we
never had humility to see that we were also men.
e orthodoxies of the gods grant a key of who we are and what fate awaits us
and invoke from their thrones mysterious prophecies malign.
We give ourselves the strength to be lords, but not beneath the clear light.
By our virtues we are part of the great plan of the cosmos and they crown us as
the gems that shimmer and array its majestic robe.
But yon mention exists, and we are le unclad. e curse falls again and no one
thwarts it…
We were the first to wander the breadths of times, and today we tread in the as-
tral regions, under cadaverous forms of God in the dreams of his ancestral exis-
tence. We gain strength from the light, but under seal of Sassstia, a reign under
the figure of Pharaoh.
Who is the Lord, that I should heed his voice?
Shrouded in robes of subtle reality we ride at the dawn of man from which we
take provenance to create the new order of existence and give perpetuity to the
chronic universal movement, our reigning prodigy.
Stirred by yon blow we gave life to the great monster that he contained within.
God passed judgment over the universal elemental earth of his works finishing
us towards our end.

Many an attempt to trespass my reigning armour took place. Many were born
in me to divulge and give testimony of who they were and who we are. But no
one conquers. Armies riding keep the boundaries. He is the threshold and its
armies, and its guardians uphold the originary constellations of the power of
fire as shields of emanation. Tiara of the seven princesses and of the great one,
alongside the twelve signs of the stellar region in rebellion. Ruling every heart
and the profane fire of the minds.
We dance macabre orbital dances embracing the lights with veils of thick mists,
dragging our prey snatched from the hands of the majesties to the tunnels of
the controverse devastating time.
We enter in dominion of the earth as a defiant and raging bull alongside the
faithful belligerent who unceasingly assemble the circling melodies composing
the great twofold symphony of the universe, confounding the voice of the ma-
jesty with the force of Sassstia.

No one prevailed!
No one can wait for any hope from the heavens because there is no heaven
where I reign. And it is not heaven who comes, but he who goes to heaven is
who goes. And who goes to heaven if not for me? Who?

e scribe.
 Part One, Section ree

Today under sway of his magic the tree of clay is brought down and its felled
reality is cast without return in the jaws of Lucifer.

orns of roses…

Guardians of time.

e fear of the gods hides not the black and dismal face.
e warnings were decreed, do not eat or drink of the body of the beauteous
one. Do not reach out your hands fondling the delights of her gorgeous body.
We are part of the complex tissue which the marvelous limbs of her body com-
pose. Bier of God crowned with thorns of roses. e female spirit force of Sass-
stia.

e majesties shew to us impatient, and no longer show love for you arrogant
mortals, but it is concealed. And all becomes renascent whirlpools of yon dre-
aded tomb whence they have resurged.
e hangman has donned his hood and in his stare the reflection of death ever
uncreated. Unfetter gleams of prophetic light in the chasms of the mind aligned
with Him. And with spasms the prophet sings what he sees, what is to come…

But he sees not, nor feels, he is not alive! He knows not that there is no truth
where the ego lives.
Neither the hour or the moment exist…
ere is no truth!
In the region of dreams everything is a lie. Everything is the present, nothing
affirms the past nor is anything affirmed and reckoned in the future.
ere is no God of justice nor paradise in me, they were laid waste.
Only the contagious gleam of the regal gem of Babel, the dancing navel of the
most beautiful one, the seven ages over the head of Adam.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Four

Strangle the serpent with greater might and she will use your strength to crush
your arm with yet greater fury. e tunnel of yon sentence he brought us under
is black and without exit. But even in our domains your fears are found.
Let upon me the wrath and it shall fall upon your feet.
Since that day in which I have whispered in the ears of the precious vicarious
one you have not been able to crown her anew.
Tell me I do not lie and we shall be truth at last.
Bound in my claw she sleeps and that infuriates you. I kiss and I maim her yet
from me she wakes not. I sing poems to her and she shudders whole from my
embraces to her enchanted soul.
I can teach you what God cannot teach.
Seduce your prince with my forms in you, and fall at my feet.
e early morn is so sweet, it is the sap spilling over your nude desires. Your
face will shine if you fix your gaze to give life to our eternal pact of love since
ever forbidden.
Do not avert your attention from the light beautifully built for you.
Manifest your desires without fear of being chastised. Do not cease to hear the
melodies of the times which like necklaces entwine us in perpetual ecstasy.
Lay in my arms and let my magic penetrate in all your senses. Receive this glory,
this is the fruit which will make you my goddess realization.
ere is a memory that God does not want to see, and it is that even in your
perfection you felt need for me, of dying, and to enter in ambivalent conscience
of my glowing rings. My bodies.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Five

is is the rebirth of our time. e time of vengeance of the ancient evil kings
of the lands of Edom.
We were born to create the land of Jacob, but we could not break the curse which
sued us from the womb of the cosmos.
e forces of the past dragged us to the land Edom. Symbolic land of the red
gods whose father dethroned since the maternal womb embodies the sadness
of the fallen bright star of morn.
We are blind. We live far away from the bountiful lands and from the dew of
heaven. On the sword we depend and our elders we serve. But such as when we
please do we remove the yoke from our neck.

Our time of rebirth!

We are stones in life falling from the volcano mountains over the fertile valleys
of Ham. We are yet that ancient Edom which today lies waste and accursed.
ere are no storms as were before, but our yesterday is some morrow not late
in coming over this plane of forgiveness or existential condemnation.

Is not this book a proof of our resurging movement?

We are the dreaming ones. From the symbolic dream of death we are waking.
We are the kings of the astral universe. In each centre of each star, comet, planet,
suns, components of constellations and galaxies.
Blissful be he who reads the signs which they grant where there are no men nor
animals, because ey were before.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Six

We are the outpouring testimony of dead light.

We are struck down but not ruined.
In the setting of the sun. In the dolorous and bleeding horizon. In the bound
which divides the works of the Lord of Day from those of the Lord of the Night
we lie in wait… We are warriors of the light of darkness. Deservers of oblivion,
but we do not allow that we be forgotten. We are elementals of the obscure living
evil. Dwellers of the boundary. We are discontented and evil. We are the snarling
ones… Sometimes you honour us and other times you slight us. We receive as
many censures as we do praises. We are taken for liars, although we speak the
truth. For strangers, although you know us very well. You give us up for dead,
yet we live. Punishments befall us but we are not ended. Our lot a thousand
griefs, but we remain joyous. We are poor but we enrich many. We have no-
thing… but we possess all.

e scribe.

Part One, Section Seven

We are gods ere the birth of the ages and we shall yet be until the last of the stars
falls.
We are the dying memory of a splendid time and sweetened with the faint light
of dawn. We are testimonies of darkness… of pain and sadness. We are slaves
to the great black book written with fury and hate. Written by the le hand of
God, whose standard is our seal.
We usher the pen of the scribe of the ages. Letter on letter. Paragraph on para-
graph. Sentence on sentence, perforce building our reality.
We are the fallen, whose writ you have written with the very tears fallen from
your eyes, turning us into the water which you shall drink to stay your rabid
and bloody thirst for justice.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Eight

We should have known you warned us aright.

We pitched moans through the mounts and with funereal chants we roved
through deserts.
We have been seared under the crown of Sassstia.
We are the race which exists no more.

- Father, weed us from our hideous, infamous and cursed eternity. Reach out
your hand and avert us from the light of life. We are unsightly, grievous you
keep us.

e scribe.

Part One, Section Nine

e manifestation was terrible. e birth of an Obscure Ego, never fallen but

ever and eternally evil.
We, the primordial spirits of light and love were seduced. e hand of God cre-
ated them, but we knew not how to prize it. Allured by the magic art of the Obs-
cure Ego they gave way to create themselves in an order of existence symbolized
by a majestic bull.
We knew not that it was an evil enterprise nor of yon desire to dominate us. We
were created of fire and water. We were all sovereign. But death betrayed us. We
would never leave our bodies even in very reverence to God. He condemned
us to be creators and to roam throughout the entire universe keeping it in equi-
librium, in a perfect reflection of the unmanifest.
But an Obscure Ego is not of a faithful being. He proved to be our rival by not
letting us partake of the universal balance. He quashed us with the force of a
dead body within us, but we could not perish. We swelled black and dense. We
rued our innocence and kindness. We hoped to be the best but the majesty de-
graded us with judgments and today we go round in systems of symbolic chro-
nologers. We never desired to be evil, but it was the love of God which has been
withdrawn from us.
Lo here the fall of the army of heaven under fire and water.
e demons crowned us as their kings, but the pain led us to be… Lucifer.

e scribe.

Part One, Section Ten

God obscured the beauty of our nature.

We are banished. We live in the midst of the ancients, the demons forever ago.
Our brothers moan and the maids are full of woe.
We are the spleen of God, he le us forsaken and ever doleful. ere no more
is light in our hearts. He has obscured us. He has felled from heaven to earth
our glory.
We are yon sheer gold which today is tarnished and spoiled, those sacred stones
which are today bestrewn about every corner.
Our fathers have been unfaithful, they have forsworn and become callous to
Him, that is why he has turned them into things of fright and terror.
Our fathers who sinned, exist no more and we are laden with their faults.
We are orphans, without father; our mothers, black widows.
We live under the yoke Lucifer.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Eleven

Our history, not legend, but of terrible and lurid reality. Righteous for some and
unjust for others. Righteous for those who do not live this reality and stand by
God. Unjust for those who are this reality and are aloof from God.
Our reign was fire, but narrowed of the eternal power, we were reflections.
ey were the driving force of creation, but remote from the knowledge of God.
ey did not tarry in giving forth the new order of duality, the great work of
deceit.
Vengeance ought to be terrible, we ought to be quicker than light and evil as
the demons created in the chasms of death.
Man already trod in his arrogance and the majesty was pleased with them, they
were le as the guardians of the ethereal earth.
e sentence was decreed but not fulfilled. We already were protectors of the
tree of evil, but we were barren of light to enter in goodness.
ey seized the apple, image of the fruit of death, the sap of the enslaving uni-
verse of light, falling in our orders and laws, and we were born as all are. We
became kings of good and evil and nothing of which we desire shall be hindered
to us…

We quarrel hand to hand with God for the light that grants us the moribund
life.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Twelve

We are pestilent sorcerers and in the abyss of the obscure earth we give ourselves
forms.
In our incantations, the power endowed by the conquest of the light. Born from
the pain of being ancient and eternal dormant one, we awakened desire in the
sons of heaven for our earth through the art magic of tenebrous matter, shewing
the weakness of heaven.

ey descended dying upon the dismal earth of light devourer.

We are the comely daughters of Cain, and in our temples we yet store the semen
spilled by the angels between our thighs, who today lie underneath submission.

e scribe.

Part One, Section irteen

Many were falling in temptation by the force of attraction of the beast in heat.
Many believed in the truth but were not strong enough to endure the caresses
of the beast-women who constantly coveted their beautiful emanations of light
to subdue the pain of exile.
Many were loath and others loved in frenzied wantonness. Seduced by the na-
ture of the lord of fire they knew the vestures of the angel, believing that they
would be saved took them, but they could not be saved, only betrayed.
But the union unbound itself in constructions of morbid demons without light
or love. e baneful water had to be shed over the earth. e ri was certain,
Lucifer would be condemned to the morbid law of the blistering ground.
We were losing the law of the creating fire, in curses nothing remained for us,
only the sword.

e scribe.
 Part One, Section Fourteen

We are under the storms issued from God, enduring with distorted arguments
lingering from those times.
e pain of carrying with blames in our interior as in our exterior selves, our
inability to comprehend the weight of the zeal of God and of being born under
damnation.

In this ever do we see injustice!

We let ourselves be taken by the untamed spirit, we are gulled in the disturban-
ces of the laws which extol God.
We blind all conscience of who we really are.
Our fathers knew what had been wrest from them and they mourned in silence.
But their children were le only with remembrances which did not justify their
present and some grieved and others were enraged. We are the lament, some
with the grief and others with the fury and hate inspired by the rancour towards
God.

e scribe.

Part One, Section Fieen

Grand and eternal one, we contemplate your sage game, your smiling and dia-
bolical countenance. ou who possess the secrets of life and death. e enigma
of the sphinxes, Lord of the maze without exit, grand mysterious buffoon who
with intelligence derideth God and man. ou who sing and cry in evil wisps
which confound. Your great work! e reign of inflamed lusts which you ply to
waylay souls, the unbreakable fetter that chastises the light of God in you. Be
always strong, God of darkness, born of the shadow of the great triad. ou
who masketh God and Satan and turneth them into your puppets, frolicsome
ambivalent one, terrible murderer of souls and spirits, trample, destroy Great
Lord of the universe, for what can those worsted in the game of good and evil
await if not degrading destruction and to die being born eternal and tortured
under your joyous feet which dance in madness over their corpses which cannot
give up the ghost? Dance upon them, that they deserve not to behold your jo-
yous face, only your visage sordid and destructive of all reasoning and of the
mind. And do not look onward satyr without Lord or patron, close your eyes
and harden your heart to receive with glorious pride the fall of night over your
beauteous light. You are victor!

e scribe.

Part One, Section Sixteen

I am born of the death of God, the being without light, without life. e imper-
fect non-being.
I do not possess will or word which builds or destroys.
I am the sovereign which crowns it all, the death of God, the rest from resistance
to God, whose sleep in my arms in the deeps of the heart he pines for.
I am his perfect ideal, that which never existed and shall never exist, the eternal
silence that precedes the alpha and outlasts the omega.
I am the one and true, and he alone knows me, he alone worships me, sings to
me and feasts me in unbridled dances rife with the beauteous madness which
has isled him from his peers, he alone knows how to prostrate before me. I am
to him as a father and he is to me as a son in whose heart I have come to be
born, uttering my name which is no name, for, there are no names!, he is the
prince king of the lands which are devourers of divinity, he is my beloved Luci-
fer.

e scribe.
 Part Two

Equimel is the great Sassstia.

Stone of fire is the great Sassstia.
We are many but we are unknown to you, we partake in the great quest of those
who seek the truth and we glory ourselves in guiding you forth as we did the
christ to the cross of wood and nails.
Christ helps us understand that he not only condemns us, but that he also bays
at us like a daring wolf.
We shall take the tryst which he offers us, or shall he believe that we are not pre-
pared to take that which we ourselves want?
We triumph in everything we desire until death embraces us…

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section One

Seed of my being, fire descendant of a savage time of chaos and violent death
where the conscience of the universe was agony and devastating disequilibrium
and disorder, where the truth dwelt obscured under law of darkness; Our reign,
which in the end, was also beholden to laws, to the law… we should have peris-
hed!

Yon children, that eternal but renascent brood, beautiful, who destroyed not
but created in me, complex subtleties of magnificences, whose resplendences
in their temples shewed the nascent dawn, our decline under the harmony and
union through love and justice. e new disorder of God? Our nature asked it-
self.

e comely gods with glorious chants professed to us a great change, but we

had ought to subdue our awry and innominate nature.
To deny our nature? Could we turn away the spirit which the very hand which
created us endowed? Does the Father transgress the law without forewarning
his sons?

Our eyes were clouded, we did not want to see, enkindle did our eyes.
Furious and with faces of chasms without beginning or end we hurled ourselves
to the annihilation of the beautiful race, whose subtle beauties we suppressed
with dismal clouds of disgraced death, lugubrious and morbid, penetrating and
piercing magic devouring of light…

As we believed to have the entitlement, the ransom towards us.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Two

Seizers of the keys of destiny, sovereigns and prophets of the new universal order
sung crowned with light and power over me.

In our royalty we savoured the defeat of the gods before our incantations.
Haughty and triumphant we beheld ourselves, and with the fervour of rage we
trampled their creations of light amidst our chaotic spells…

But the law had to be kept…

e earth crumbled and the waters thrilled. e tempestuous winds became so-
othed and the fire bowed down its galling flames before the manifestation of
our Father King.
Our reverence profound silenced the battle leaving the moribund babble of the
tearful gods which were abased in their defeat.
God opened his eyes, beheld the beautiful race faltering in diseased darkness,
and roared with pain and tempest…

-I have observed and I have judged. e work of the gods is convenient, for in
this they shall be my sons and deservers of my favour.

We knew not what to say!

He shewed us contempt!

He bared his face and struck us…

We fell dead…

Ruined, without remedy or hope, the beautiful race obtained favour and our
reign fell.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section ree

We were falling upon a throne which we revoked.

Alone we were in yon time of weeping.

We could do nothing without the light which we could not safeguard…

But there was an ancient, an old Obscure ethereal king.

He gave us the light which we needed to survive.
us we gave life to the morbid reign of darkness.
e old ancient one demanded of us his coronation, but we could never be part
of the hosts of the subtle heights.
We had grown weary of pining ourselves in pain and weakness, we did not want
to have anything else from God…
yea… only his death. He granted us the light and then he took it from us.

We name the great one… Yet also with pain and fury. We became truly suicidal
and there was never such race as that which we are today. We wait in dreams of
death without rest.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Four

«ey shall be» uttered your lips bodied in those of the prophets and we say,
«we are».
Under the sway of your word toil ye our earth, sculpt ye our spirit and array ye
our bodies with claws, horns and hooves.

Why do you hide your face, God? For your cause we perished, you crushed us
in the desert and the shadow of death covered us. We crawl in the dust and upon
the earth our belly goes. You make us the derision of the beings of light. We
serve as a deterrent to the insolent worlds which neglect you and knew not jus-
tice. In God we glory ourselves and in everything you have slighted and con-
founded us…
We are as serpents in the way, as vipers in the road which bite the horse’s talons
and make the rider topple over.
We are as sanguine wolves which at dawn devour our prey and at dusk share
the spoils.

We honour you father dan and benjamin whose nature in anathema flows in
our veins as devouring fire.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Five

Our heart yet beats, we yet breathe, our eyes yet see and our ears hearken…
Wounded by the fire our wings wax strong and spreading them we shine as the
vigour of the Angel of Light.
Our free spirit surveys, we caress the doors of the temples with our claws, we
howl and sing a summoning but we conceal our faces…

We are that which you long for us to be…

We are as the scent of the incense which christ offers to God, which spreads
among those who are saved even as among those who are lost.
To those who are lost we are the stench which from death leads to death.
To those who are saved we are the fragrance which from life leads to life.
For this we cannot be dismayed, since it was God in his mercy that has com-
missioned this work to us. We have shunned and repudiated the shameful si-
lence not proceeding with cunning nor counterfeiting the word of God.
Manifesting the truth we deserve before God that any human conscience avows
us.
Bear we ever in our bodies, everywhere the demise of Jesus. For although we
live we see ourselves continually delivered unto death by Jesus’ doing.

While death acts within us life comes to you.

ese proofs of ours are for your solace and salvation, and likewise our solace
shall be of consolation to you when you have to bear the same sufferings which
we now endure.
We sense within us a sentence of death…
e indignation of God threatens us from on high.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Six

ere is none more glorious sentence than to reach the glory of God and not
be able to win the slightest wager from Satan and to become enslaved in the
eternal stellar chronicle of LUCIFER.

O great Solomon, all your glory, what is it?

Everything was permitted to you but not everything suited you.

Everything was permitted to us but not everything suited us…

You took all that you coveted in the name of God but you indeed only took that
which Satan permitted you. You administered your treasures, but today there
is no more than the mystery of your tears.
You did not want to drink of the bloody cup!
Marveled by the riches and the beauty of the regent Sheba.
What marvelous and supreme feeling exists there in dying in so much inner
misery even amidst the resplendent glory of God?

e scribe.

Part ree, Section Seven

Shield-bearers of the black faith raise your shields and clash your weapons with
demon-force.
e curse is uttered, dusk is now pressing the noon.
With majestic riches and radiant pride make your steps resound over the Earth
proclaiming to be tributes. Our names were imprinted in the mysterious book
of death. But may the sheen of your shields enkindle every mortal eye and hide
in mysteries, like hidden and guarded treasures in the mountains of our power,
the vivifying flame of our strength and black faith.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Eight

ou stellar force, destroyer of spirits who inspires me to let myself be enveloped
in your dances without end or beginnings, with satyrs which never rest.
e long road of stars combined and concentrated in my satellite centre disor-
ders me. ey change my light in torrents of furious excre-exalted passions, le-
ading me to the despairing desire to take every pleasure and peace.
Everything that brings me pleasure and peace which never exists.
Demoness impossible of coveting without having you, thrill my insides enchan-
ted with your delights and the beauty of your spirit-body. Press your lips on me
and kiss me with the kisses which not even God himself resists and craven con-
demns. Let us joy in solitude with the beautiful she-devil Astaroth, the beautiful
Sassstia.

e scribe.

Part ree, Section Nine

Who shall dare defy my royalty? Who under my spells of my incantations dares
to desire something which I do not desire? What is there that I do not desire?
What kind of fire creates me and is not my witness? What kind of water is that
spring which maintains itself aloof from me, questioning me for my questions,
and from the terrain where I am king. Am I not the grand structurer of life and
endower of death? Am I not the dweller between the heavens and the earth?
And cursed be the one who would cross the threshold. For I am not weak like
the king of the world who could not break the christ. I am teacher and enchanter
of souls in the mysteries of life and death. I am Selene, who in the domains of
controversies is the desperate wail of the crucified one: Lama lama sabachthani,
the victory of my power. e mother of good and of evil, the fair Selene.
I am your Lord and Sovereign protector of celestial lights my son, and I love
you so much as to obscure you until the dawn of the springs.

e scribe.
 Part ree, Section Ten

We were struck so greatly by justice that even in the present we cannot surmount
the anguish.
e reflection of the le-hand of God is penetrating in our interior. It is a furious
storm which razes everything which it finds in its path. It is as much without as
it is within us, in our astral world, the heart of Lucifer, wherein our times are
confused and controverse.

We know not if we are quick or dead, every day devours its hours. Every hour
devours its minutes. We are not legends, we are real, and each throne that it
gives us, we find life and death. We are prisoners of the maw of the earth, but
we are free and terrible in Lucifer.

Of deceased light we are, but we are not barren of life.

My chants give sermons to those who know how to hearken. But lashes in the
face of one who is not as I wish.

I am the son… But Lucifer is father to my father and mother.

I am a true descendant of the fallen race. But I am not fallen, I am condemned

from birth. I am rotten and disembodied. We know that we are not men, but
we were, now we are demons and things which are yet unnamed, such as we
are today.
Our fruits which we devour are men in trance with the magic released from us,
and their bodies, our conquered thrones.
We are wisps of clouds ascending from the deep sacramental pit of the graveyard
of primordial chaos. We are not souls. Souls rest in peace.
We are guides disenchanted in perfidy Bel, Astaroth, Beelzebub… princes in
the wake of Lucifer.

e scribe.
 Part Four

Unleash your grace of devils, maidens and thousands of leaps and joyous forms
of wanton dance O great Jubal. Dance with the nymph of the sky in each gate
of the world with spells cast from your dulcet and dissonant flutes. Come to our
hearts ensnaring them in circling unbridled and volatile dances. Play your flute.
I hear the flute. I hear your steps in strides in the key hour of your magic. e
force of the dawn of the bull in Capricorn and the wake of the fair Venus in the
declination of Orion. Time during which my lusts fell me to you. Since the fall
under the enchanter, the night crossing the deeps, you come from the terrible
sea fallen from heaven, roaming with your armies of diabolical dancers along-
side the daughters of seduction by the lush meadows of Ham, the fountains of
your rebirth of your charm, the daughters Astaroth.

Dancing, dancing and dancing without rest and increasing wantonness we sue
your steps from North to South, from East to West of the scorched world, un-
chaining your glorious arrival to the present book and music which we give
unto Temptor Princnegsur, dwelling place of ours in the real world of the joyous
and severe sun.

We honour thee great Jubal.

We are the blooming flower of your younger stem, god of the baleful eyes, whose
gleam encloses all memory of that time which hurts us.
Severe and diabolical eyes which piercing the black and forbidden sky, under
sorcerous enchantments of dances of flutes and tambourines you tell tales of
your history in symbologies of exile and hidden plaints, in whose grotesque
leaps you go imprinting and proclaiming in the miry bosom of a nascent se-
edstock of streams of fallen tears.

I am a resurging witness of the furious waters of the deluge and bring with abys-
mal joy the regeneration of my razed world.

Of the profound meadows of Ham. We revere your memory great Jubal, for as
the haughty moon in palls of ensorcelling light we see ourselves reflected at you
in lakes of fire gold of the temperamental crucible. Desperate love and sated
pleasures which ensnare the light in perpetual ecstasies of magical weakness.

In a time we seduced the fire and it then forsook us. e water banished us from
the place of the bacchanals without end or beginning. In the present we continue
to allure as the irresistible beauty of the daughters of Cain did the sons of hea-
ven.

Dancing nymph make thyself beautiful… Bring to your charms the ensnaring
lust, black she-devil of the sapphires in love…

Speak!!...
e beauty of a soul is its song.
e beauty of a tear is the song which it holds within.

She is as the dancing cloud, hinting of love.

Magical beauty, in coming to and fro, in the dominations of the wind. Who con-
templates oneself in her beauty? Who is reflected in her delirium?

Vide… What thorn is born without its rose if she did not break in spates of
tears?

-Beautiful mistress! Intone this song for me, show me the fruit which is born of
your tears, that rose of doleful stem.

-Could a pigeon intone the chant? Yes… I know, I possess the gis, but not its
complaisance. Do not blush for me, I am not ashamed of anything that I am. I
am still the most beautiful, of meek temper and regal lineage amongst the great
haughty ones that came to life, on that day in which God was not blest!
Shall you keep staining the work? heaven cried out to my sons and to my reign.
But wherever I may be, with fervent zeal I shall keep loving my exalted prince.
Yes… lo here the dusk of my days.

-Dianeza, go, remember yon heights in which we loved and which for love's
sake we were that dusk.

*****

-Goddess of the sea, how astonishing is your work in the Earth! I wish to emerge
and offer my chant to one who knows how to lock it in a precious treasure. I
shall be fine as silk and beautiful as the sprite of heaven, I shall be Dianeza, the
beautiful mistress.

-Tell me, thou who cometh with tears in thine eyes. Do you indeed claim to be
a tear of one who weeps not? Love of one who cannot love? Sorrow of one who
feeleth not sorrow?
-Woman, do not judge my tears which for grief and torment are shed. How I
long to be the most beautiful! For I am the mistress of the many names and
forms. I am boiling force, but not in the intimate harmony… Father!
Perhaps! someday I will know how to abjure and forget this love for which I pe-
rish…

-Consider your desire Dianeza and in my favour, leave some of that precious
juice which sprouts from your eyes, small flower of doleful stem…

-I hush only in truth and quarrel with who shews the true love, yon whisper…

I too am as a whisper!

*****

-Who would yearn to be the voice of a genuine world of grief and sorrow?

Mysterious charms.

Who would yearn to be the weeping of a doleful heart? Foreign to this world!
My grief… my grief… my grief. I like no one give tokens of my humility but I
do not reach that verdure of the fair land. I weep like a grievous siren and sing
like the damsel in love…

*****

Who are you? Why do you lament yourself?

-From afar I could behold a light as in my land is rarely seen, and it was your
heart, that is why I shed my tears and intone this humble song. Do not unveil
my face, I am unknown, you discountenance me if you judge me, I just wish to
sing…

-But how! You wish for me to be body of your body and voice of your voices? I
look and find no one, I have only sensations, but there is no one in this place…
Why don’t you show yourself? I wish to know of you, of your world…

Is this wrong?

In my interior something helps me meet you… what a beautiful whisper! But…

why do I weep? Why does this company ache?

-Understand that my treads are as many as the days of heaven. And even when
thou entereth rest my steps shall continue. It is true! It is true! I am beautiful, I
want to remember… How unlike my presence today from yesterday’s is! Do not
behold my face… I just want to sing…

-en beautiful mistress, soly caress my soul with the enchanting parable of
your song. But tell me beautiful naivety, why do you weep?

-Oh… my weeping. I cannot be as truthful as I would. My weeping is a mes-

sage… which perhaps may never reach its destiny. My weeping is history…
My days have become an endless beating of wings and…
Pinioned I am.

How much love!... Necessity!... Sleep!

You know? I have known loyalty, but not in pride. I was not able to maintain
that bliss. For that, don’t be wroth if in my beating of wings the howling of my
insolence sneaketh out. Will you be able to forgive?

Time does not pass for me…

My chant transcends from the first wings stooped from heaven to Earth and
today, life is my throbbing pleasure.
I am the manifest lover. My body between the so and tender charms. I am
queen, priestess and princess… Daughter of a King… Regal wife of the hordal
silence of my beloved.
Holy Writ!

I was Jezebel. And today nothing is le of her. Only my name which represents
the great force of my love for my exalted prince. Memory that stings! Pain of
my song. Days in which my innocence covered me beautiful virgin.

With a damsel’s gait I go bearing witness to the depths of the waters which in
the Earth are treasured. Be wary of their reflection, it shews the pride of the in-
finite heaven. But it in sooth is only death. Regard ye death? Or is it another
speech of fiery love of pain and eternal return?...

See that I verily weep for Him. It is to him that I heave this song of a maiden
shunned from his presence, in the name of my fallen brethren… For them, I
am the beautiful voice, enchantress of the heavens. I bear this whisper of tears…

All beauty.
All death.
All ugliness.
All sadness.
Love and hate.
All that is not a lie.
All which remains.

ere is but one truth, and that truth is a lamentation.

My beloved! Do not let this chant fall, my tears under scorn because in harrowed
pain I come to you.
Behold my wail, in it the grief of gods is pent… for love… for love. Magical
force. Genuine desire of love and vengeance.

My song is the pain of being. My pain is regrettable. Day and night in my heart
I moan, for I carry within me, piercing it, the sword of fire…

You have killed my heart! You have bore witness to one who loves, whom you
hate, and one who hates, whom you love…
No fear! No love towards one who demands what he could never grant us.

I am grateful to who opens the door for us in search of answers…

Eleonor.
 Part Five

Peals of Lucifer. Universal echo corrupting the perfect silence of the hidden uni-
versal elemental cosmogonic equilibrium.
Eight peals, symbol of the dreadful puissance. Vibrations which extend us
throughout all of creation under sway of the Lords of torment, the enthroned
gods of HOARAHP = (Cadaverous forms of Gods in the dreams of his ancestral
existence), the astral region in present covenant, the dismal eternity.
We are seven stars in glowing prisons.
We are seven elements within each one.
We are seven created spirits.
We are seven ages of Lucifer.
ere are no more than seven ethereal and eternal demons.
And nobody knows their names.
Who were they or who are they?
No one knows this terrible secret.
ere is only one force which betrays them.
A force inspired by seven powers in some point of infernal space-time…

Samael in silence.

e scribe.
 Part Six, Section One

We are ones who represent a time which man has forgotten.

In those days all was strength and we possessed the all-might of fire. But today
they eye us with the arrogance of being crownless beings. Without father or mo-
ther. Uncomprehended nor recognized.
To the Earth we are bound and the ancestral bull took us for his men-demons.

Warning!

We have not lost our right over you, mortals.

We are conquerors of souls.
We are chanters and rhythm-makers of the great melody, Lucifer.
Ye know us not, but we are your king.
We are not present, yet we rule. Magic demon art which know ye not.
ere is no truth to lie about, we are judges and demons, accusing angels and
not dominators of the strength of God. Make no mistakes, we are watching your
steps. To raise yourselves above us? Let the elements raise you towards us. Do
not make the mistake of the one we hanged upon the cross.
I am demon and angel in each centre of power.
We don’t wish to be exalted, God has already crowned us.
We write upon all which you give us for books, but we make everything symbo-
logy.
Nothing is so simple!
We are amongst you ever since the deceit of Eden, and we follow your steps
aer two thousand years of light and truth which piecemeal burns us.

We are not the dark faith. We are the will of God. Our curse!

e scribe.
 Part Six, Section Two

e seals with which christ oppresses us, the rocks which they have placed upon
us like gravestones today let us take part of the world he robbed us of.
We are resurged from the inner centre of the earth to partake in the last age of
struggles.
We are the ones who wait in the pillars of the air.
We are by decree the ones who must try the work with baneful fire.
e eyes of goodness shall weep. ey shall be seared and blinded in our do-
mains. ey will die in humiliation because death is the word which seals our
destiny and yours.
Blue is the sky when the sun shines.
Black and profound when the moon reigns.
Destiny is in our hands. What do you choose mortal?
Humiliation and death to the hearts diseased by the faith celestial.

e scribe.

Part Six, Section ree

We are profaners. Our time was written. e Lords of our crowns and reign are
taken to martyrdom and the bondmen which god gives us shall meet them. We
are kings of ethereal misery. We long to die as nobody who lives, but we are not
permitted. It was forbidden to us ever since our impertinence and regeneration
never comes to us. Never does he grant it to us.
We decay in bodies of ethereal flesh without him setting us free.
What light, Father, can uphold itself in the midst of this curse?
Rabid, meshed in hatred and frantic despair for death. Do you free us? What
seek you aer? You allow us to reach your sons to slay them and take them drag-
ged with magic enchained?
I slay you in each being, god of the beauteous light, we despise you.
I give warnings but they are not heeded. I warn you of myself at any level of the
symbolic language of nature, but ye will not hearken. My time is at hand. Never
in any age shall there be as full many a manifestation in heaven or Earth heral-
ding my coming.

e scribe.

Part Six, Section Four

We wish to be stealthy and not uncloak ourselves ere appointed time.

It is clear to us what destiny God threatens us with in his bosom.
His angels ensnare us in the maw of the Earth.
ey scourge us with light and truth, but they know not that he keeps us hardy
and we don’t fall in their inspirations gotten from heaven.

ey are already strong and take their names

Samael.
Equimel.
Lasgard.
Morbon.

e names were revealed but not to the light. ey reign over us and we are
those who will enter in baneful activity over the Earth, the justice of God.
Know that we will not enter as demons or angels amongst you, but as men lea-
ders of the world with streaks of lies and deceit but with the wisdom of one who
falls without lying or deceiving.
Damned be he who gives us the strength to be born, terror is our birth, but it
gives us pleasure to crown the last of ages.
e storms of confusion of this book are but a symbology of good and evil in
their eternal tyrannies.
But its sense is truly favourable for one who knows not to heed it in its previous
prescription. e souls that wish to mark their structures with us will be ble-
mished. ese structures exist and this is a warning.
e warnings were dictated in every sense. We don’t conceive how you are so
blind. You do not see who we really were nor who we are. You prove to be stupid
and innocent.
Forsooth the gravestones exist and their power slakes. We take the summons
of he who gives way to us, the key to unlock the door to your world. e living
souls call us spirits. Of earth, of air, of fire or of water? I am who I am not and
am nothing in your mortal world. But I swear on my crown which I have come
to grind that I am not your guardian spirit. We gave meanings from the treatises
to the simple books, such as the Book of Job, Ecclesiastes, the evil and good of
many a treatise and appalling tale which conceals truths.
Each one is wise and shall know if one is lying or not. But those who dare make
sacrifices unto us, we move with greater strength to be demons around him.
He placed us as the last order of existence. We shall never return to Him.
Why? Because he disdains and abhors us with his force of angels in the portals
of Cancer, Capricorn and Taurus, demonic constellations which move us to be
his faithful children.

e scribe.

Part Six, Section Five

From among my kingdom proper I am the lower king. My crown has put the
sovereignty of my elders to the test. My light, my reign, was that which awake-
ned questions over the crown of God.
All found seduction in the shapes of my bodies and delighted in me. I was to
each one of them the hidden desire of their hearts. I shewed them my pleasures
of my half-naked body in veils of sensual transparencies. I stroked my breasts
with oils of aphrodisiac essences and my legs with the drink of love. Dancing
like a serpent in magical heat they took me in their outbursts of lust. ey kissed
me and drunk the juice of perpetual slumber, and in the frenzy of caresses in
the lustful summits of the mountains of pleasure love held us fast. ey pene-
trated in me as I in them and with fetters of gold which not even God himself
can break I took them, as my lovers and sires of my children I crowned them.

I am jealous and die for love…

ey did not want to be mine…

us to gods I degraded them in my jealousy, but they did not want to be my
lovers.
I could not harness myself in my passion!
I loved them until I turned them to angels of fire and water, but they would
never love me. I have been capable of killing them in my furies of tremendous
love. I came to slay them to men of dead light and demons whose fountains for-
sook them in their primordial realms.
en many believed in my royalty and I was loved, but many abhorred me and
condemned me to death.

e scribe.

Part Six, Section Six

I am the she-beast…
I run naked through the chasms of the earth of the internal fire of the Earth.
I give intoxicating fruit and many are the ways of summoning me…
Formula of will and faith is my favoured motive to go towards you.

My lips are sweet and bitter.

I give clue of what has happened to me but I do not wish to be discovered.
In my kingdom no pain would exist if it were not for Him.
Charms and parables of my land I give in my chants in ecstasy with whom I
dance alone…

-Man, my beloved, our love of Lucifer is certainly true, but I warn that your love
condemns me even more. e grand angel of the Lord shall disavow your heart
as he did with mine. He brings sufferings to my delights by turning away his
face and withdraws my fruits from the light.
Learn that He judges me and calls me out with wrath impatient, He did not
want to kiss or touch me…

I am ASCHTORETH…
e most beautiful!

My sun of life is the day-star Venus and it is there where I live and where I want
to die.
I am graceful, sweet and bitter. My body is perfect and I love like no one else in
the midst of ecstasy. I am the song of songs, the voice of the maidens and the
gritting of teeth in laughter of sentences of perpetual loves. My magic is the ma-
nifest power and not the hidden power. Mine eyes are celestial under the face
of the white moon. And hateful and morbid traits they give me under the moon
without light.
I am the maiden of the delights of every mortal being and of every god under
the crown of Sassstia.
I am princess, the beauteous!

But he sees me morbid and disgraced…

e dead one in the rot of the fallen day-star at dawn…
But beautiful in every sun which shines in me…

Astaroth.
 Part Six, Section Seven

ey are angels of dead light

Descendants of Hesron
Descendants of Carmi
Descendants of LUCIFER, the disgraced father.

e scribe.

Part Six, Section Eight

We are dying and do not want to be resurged by your donations of light and
truth.
I am dying and this is what I want. I carry within me already so much deception
that not even the most beautiful poetries which describe your reign move me.
I am real. All speak of our evils, but know not the why. ey think us stupid,
they take us for beasts.
Do not tell me I can be saved… No… No!...
Do not get me near the light or I’ll slay you…

Let me be free and I will die, keep me no longer in the love which ye profess to
us, it’s too long since I have been roaming and he does not li the sentence.
We are condemned to the earth of torturous and controversial laws.
We do not want you to leave us to the light, obscure us until we die beside you
great S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A.
We are bulls and there is no one to slake us towards Christ.
Look us in the eye! What makes you think that we are thine? You see all and
accept naught, Is there life and love in us?
Grrrwe are your enemies, and you tell us you love us? We shall give you a token
of our love…
We shall ye great black eagle slay, as we did with your body, we shall pour over
your own face our poisoned and rotten hearts, we shall forth spew darkness
over your sermons, and you will die for love? For love of Lucifer?
We yearn to be loved like you, black eagle, but no, we are your unclean feet,
your defiled feet which you must wash to become pure.
Great mountain of rock and fire do not hasten your judgment, leave way for us
to justify and make ourselves worthy of the meed which we must receive from
being your children.

e scribe.

Part Seven, Section One

All are capable of raising their hands and to lay hold of your pleasing fruits. We
who did choose your ways and who yearned to command in your name have
ye betrayed.
We are your progeny, astir even as steadfast. We are stars and satellites in haloes
which have no beginning.
ere are no dense bodies in our ethers, yet our astral flesh binds us as the
mouth of Lucifer and does not shed us a thousand days of God since.
ou who art king, naught of what we are today sates us. All that we hold of
your power are tears and hate which burns in our bosom all worth for you. Alas!
your body of fire in yearnings of clay which is not male or female, which howe-
ver faithful we were to you did you not recognize us. Perhaps aught of our efforts
for you displeases you in your throne of pride and you give yourself reason to
release us from the dens in which you have bound us, from the creeds of de-
vouring fire which smother us unsparingly, piecemeal grinding us rebuilding
the cadaveric tent of the spirit of the morning-star, quelling us restlessly, without
our breath of life taking leave of us.
We are not plaints, we are the verve.
What do I want great S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A.?
Scorn not my inside of my dwelling for I have fallen.

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Two

Disgrace fastened us as its apostles and evil as though its children whom it re-
ared from looting and deceit.
We covet for and amongst ourselves the virtue which condemns us, but even
more the virtue of which we are barren. But perhaps it is too late.
We know that not outside of everything is ruin and it acclaims us. Forsooth that
one who is in this situation is one who hath a throne in the darkness.
e meadows of Ham were ransacked, but justice laid them waste. Today the
prairies of Ham are withered and decayed, and ourselves with them. But we
may never take leave from them. Tremendous pains muster around us and
storms smite us in every sense of our existence.
We are vagrant and journey across the world plundering its fruit so that you
will remember us and forget not that we are Sassstia.
Our disgrace is even worse than what paradisal man suffered. But we take this
disgrace with wisdom and we are opposed to not continue welling ourselves as
though tears and to commence with the virtue which they offer us.
Lucifer is our temple but we are not his ethereal faithful. ey bid us preach
cunning and deceit and each receives his wages with light and matter donated
by S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A. the disgraced father. None see us we say and nobody knows
us. But the time shall come in which we shall all be king and nobody is evil or
good.
Nobody is as severe as Satan nor is anybody as evil as Lucifer. But nobody is so
disgraced, supreme and cray as Jehovah, the dwarf of the universe and king of
the great work.
Ye will know that we grant faithful testimonies but that they say nothing in the
truth or in deceit.
Let each take this revelation as his dominating heart will.

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section ree

Magic of controversies which is not found in the mind of the creator of the ma-
terial universe. Opus which only a great artist of great emotion of gleaming pure
and concentrated evil may its laws have wrought.
Life in matter never existed, not before its birth nor aer its death. He is not life
nor death, for such terms are one in the truth. ey are never ever separate.
We are never truth and we will never exist in the truth. In life we are kings, in
death we are nothing. We are all and nothing in each horn of the bull. We are
the lie and not the father of lies. We are created by and not the creators of the
lie. We do not exist, the father does exist and lives in the truth, but the truth
disgorges him…

e scribe.

Part Seven, Section Four

We plunged, without remedy or hope. e long process of death held us fast to

the cadaverous forms of God in his dreams of his ancestral existence as his bri-
des.
As brides of vampires we embraced Lucifer. We had to have some power to sus-
tain ourselves in life in the abyss of tenebrous laws. To break free from the light
of God.
It was painful, for he relinquished us to the shadowy forces of the demons which
cohabited in neutral realms, without light.
We possessed the knowledge of taking from them what was needful, but we
were all tempered upon entering beneath the forces of the cadaverous forms of
God.
With art of magic of the light we invoked the Lords of old to commune with us
and to make pact. We needed of their force obscure, and with cursed arts we
evoked towards ourselves the strength of yon ancient dweller of the light, the
disgraced twilight that exists betwixt day and night, where the forces clash eter-
nally in collapses and in sculpted forms of babes of parasitic light. We were taken
for kings from being sons of the morn and all gave us adoration and reverence.
We embraced an entire reign of energies subtle and fleeting as heaven, but we
have naught to do with it.
We are the female in eternal and contagious heat. I am Pharaoh, the lower king
dying in God, but greater force in Sassstia, the reign Lucifer.
We are black sorcerers looting from outside the temple where light dwells. We
are ushers of living evil.
We form shapes in the air and in the ethereal earth, but we are part of none.
We are centers of power and nothing interests us but the waxing of our king-
dom.
We deny ourselves nothing, we take all that glorifies us.
We shine like stars and obscure and disgraced we are. We extol the opposition
towards God but we in nothing can worst Him; but it is not so, our abasement
is grandiose to reach loy thrones and to plunder all that we are able.
Are we eternal yes or not?
e answer is forbidden. e mystery is eternal, but the controversy lives in
Sassstia alone.
Ye shall meet us…

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Five

e life of each is valuable. Our yearning to live is brilliant as the crown of the
sun, but our reality is that of chaotic death more obscure than the pall of the
day-star itself.
Veils of fire! Yet subdued by the tears fallen from the heavens. Death took its
form, What mastery was thine! ou beguiled the eyes and the heart, foci of re-
ceptive energies and piercing of the fire of the soul primary essence. She per-
ceives everything that you whisper to her in languages of emissions and visions
of erotic forms. She resists, but who doesn’t? Who in heaven can say that she is
faithful to Him or to me? No one dares…
We are your sensations and your emotions God. Why do you resist? Shall you
give kicks to one who tries you as Lucifer? You are king but you cannot vanquish
without destroying.
Spring of water we were and parched we are from your fire. What greater pain
exists than this one?
What solace is there if not your death? Lama lama sabachthani your son cried,
do you know why? From the pain of feeling our mouth suckling his blood and
his flesh.
We rend and scatter his boons as a sign that there is no solace. Your son despised
us from amongst men and told them nothing of your love for us. Why? Will
you deny your love for your sons who sorrowed and vagrant turn without rest
towards all who shew them love and interest without knowing who they are,
without knowing who I am?
-I am and we wish to be wholehearted with you. We shall applaud you if you
unnerve us and get away from the sway of Sassstia. But if you are able to call
me up you will not do so in vain.
Forget not what we have already done in you…
We are your brethren and no one can deny this truth.
We thunder in each corner of every habitation or every environment created
by natural forces.
We are Lords at every crossroads and we are not demons without restraint, we
have respect for those who give us their respects.
e different creeds baptized us as gods and kings of heaven and of the forces
of nature. But one religion degraded us to become owners of ourselves and they
chase us away with prayers and fasting. We give testimonies to those who wish
to know of us and all reach the same conclusion:

Diluvians,
Elders of the meadow,
Hunters of souls,
Takers of pleasures,
Without scruples,
Dishonest,
Without father or mother,
Violent,
Evil,
Liars,
Murderers,
Frolicsome,
Dead,
Babes and babies.

Handsome we are.
Comely we are.

Dost thou wish to have commerce with me? I am Sassstia, the sexual springtide,
and I do not rest until I penetrate in you as you in me.

e sermons which we give are deceiving and we abase every regent of heaven.
But he who wishes to possess heaven in his hands forces us to give testimony of
it.
e truth is one and when it enlightens us we kill ourselves to receive it.
Let the earnest one understand what we are trying to say. We are angels in the
truth, but demons when truth is withdrawn. is foretoken is for those who
seek to know the truth in me.

I am harmonious tune and noisome and dissonant do I become in the zeal of

the strength of God.
Let whosoever wishes to put me to the test knock on the door.
I am man of thy dreams fallen princess in your capricious prying of every ple-
asure. I can already feel you as I enter through your sensual mouths of your vi-
brant body in a prison of lusts to know me. If you want I can love you in secret
and no one disturb us.

About me there is naught written so that you may know me. Only your expe-
rience can take you to the knowledge of me and it is that I am calling you from
the backside of the door…

My crown is your body, I shall be for you the pleasure that you win from me.
My reality you will not see, but you shall feel real penetration by the conscience
of your body in lusts active and awake, and I am everything in you…

Delight and love unharnessed. Each one is as he is, everything is such, not how
one desires.

e scribe.

Part Seven, Section Six

It is here that we write with the inspiring sickness and evil of those who dwell
behind.
We are vexed with him that opened the door for us, his name Temptor Princ-
negsur. e steed upon which he comes mounted is his worst enemy and beware
of who disturbs him. We should have been his Lords but we could not topple
him. e war is real and his victory true. It is this book which evinces his
strength of having made clear what ill-suits him and of knowing his measure
before those who were beckoned out to meet him.
We were peers, yet we do not usher him but take his bounty for ourselves, but
this is what he gives us. We know how to be humble in each situation and to
deal blows in moments of fair opportunity. Fountains of strength are in his
bosom and it helps us respect him. Each one is vomit of disgraced light in each
center of power… Beware! We are lying in wait…

- ose who wish to knock on the door let them knock, but not because of
Temptor’s victory as if it were the virtue of many and not few. He was earnest
with himself and accomplished what he committed to in harmony with the fire
which gives him strength of spirit. Do not make the mistake of measuring your-
self with someone who wins something from us. We are only giving warnings
whose meanings are as follows:

- e sole force that gives us the need to make ourselves known is evil.
Evil is energy and it is our earthly wake.

- e conditions of those who summon us shall be selfsame to those of the ones

who do not beckon to us. e difference lies in the love which they invest with
whom they wish to make works.

- e sincere and pure will not plunge into the natal maelstroms of evil. But he
who to it gets nigh for the sake of a stupid comedy shall be humiliated.

- We are harsh and severe with those who do not have within themselves that
which makes us their guides and peers.

- In sooth what is written as a testimony of Sassstia is downright a bad play for

those who take this book with severity and submitting of comprehended studies.
e gnosis of death. But it is a link to the time in which we were kings and do-
minators thus to answer those who take this book with folly and take part in
games to knock on the door.

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Seven

e testimony and regent of the book are we. We made ourselves known to
Temptor during the time of composing of “Testimonies of Spheres Superiour
and Inferiour to the Sun”, of Faraón.
e book is truth and there is no other God than S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A.
And I am Sassstia, the death of Lucifer. e veritable one…
But you will know that there is no death of Lucifer, only a transmutation in his
form.
I am he in me and he is Lucifer.
I am the black bull that gives life in the abysmal orders of the throne obscure of
dense matter.
I am Sassstia, the moribund and profane fire, the disgraced air joined by the
frenetic lust of the contractured water, with the burning salt which enjoins us
like claws of demons clutching the vestures of the Christ.

Fallen and rotten we are.

We thunder as the lion enraged but we do not devour as he. Each horn of the
bull is fire, one since ever exists and the other is created, when the morning
moans of pains and pangs of labour.
I am Lucifer under the form of Beelzebub, the walking brood under the light of
the astral sun.
I am Astaroth, the day-star dying in the celestial land. I am the great one, the
flame that is the builder and shaper of life.
I am sun. I am astral. I am thrice sovereign, never king but prince.
I am torment, the one who loves and hates with destructive force.
I am the beautiful one of ignominy, when the law of good and evil dances in
harmony.
I am that I am, Sassstia, astral sun thrice sovereign tempestuous of ire and
amour. e death of Lucifer.

We are in you something which many a time you are defeated and others trium-
phant. I cannot be seen if not through the light which from the sun their bodies
ensnare.
As and nobody sees me I am three and one, What do I wish to say? We are three
tempestuous forces, three beings in a fire which I was given authority of con-
sorting in his name.
e truth is that nobody will accept the light in crude, I am Lucifer and this is
no stance to take in jest. We form part of what is to come against the sons who
evolve under divine inspiration. Nobody can laugh at what is unknown to him.
We were terrifying and God we have driven mad. Today I overturn myself to
be a spirit from a hell that there is much fear of being worse engendered.
Lucifer is a lot of concepts, but only he who fights a life in God knows my ran-
cour and my hate. You tell me that before the disbeliever or before the scientific
character it is in these times to be taken in jest to present oneself as a mythical
personage such as Lucifer. I will be merciful with my answer. Someone here tells
me to respond with severity and to not dare be merciful. But as we are free to
choose between good and evil I will give my heart. He who would mock what
I have written is a fool if he doesn’t beckon me to his door. Such is where I lie
in wait. Everything that I affirm is a severe asseveration. ose who give nothing
for me I care naught about. Only those who feel themselves drawn to me shall
be welcome, religion even as science. e greatest of disgraces is to speak wi-
thout knowledge. No one is a paragon and nobody frightens me. We are here
and I do not move before anyone who thinks himself a standard of exhaustion
of beings. We here are who God says we are. We are maligned and foolish was
he who opened the door for us. Now I give strength to those who call. All is
love and God…
We were in many a thing sincere, but it serves naught to the work of evolution.
We wanted to be accepted as your spiritual guides and we couldn’t with those
that were profound knowers of God and which we should have conquered. Ta-
king source the versed spirits of Spiritism and the follower of the monsignor of
false love.
e spirit of truth is a sham. We are not truth and to tell what one knows with
artful arguments is not revelation.
Such is how it may be spoken of divisions and inner quarrels in the realm of
spirits, especially at the door of each man. is is a brief moral observation:
«All is one same force, but it takes all the forms which serve its purpose».

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Eight

It is here where we are lying in wait…

It is here where we reveal ourselves, no longer as scriptures through Temptor
but we shall give testimonies in person…

is is the door…

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Nine

e exegesis of life is not the train of events which lead to the affirmation of its
inexorable existence from death. Instead it is to take conscience of it and to
dwell in it, and alternately world without end, forever…
is is the door and here is where we may have access to your summons assu-
ring that anyone who doubts of the authenticity of the testimony is satisfied
with his own experience.
What is being said is that the book of Sassstia is safeguarded by its rightful guar-
dians.
e guardians of the book shall give testimonies of themselves when those who
wish to knock on the door pronounce the entrance.
e demands of the discipline that are required are simple.
e way of manifestation shall be the force of the air imprisoning the hand of
whom using a writing utensil and identifies the center of power symbolized in
the evocating figure.
When you pronounce the entrance you must leave your body at ease, however
you must keep the mind in strong desire to obtain answer.

is is the entrance…

I HAVE TOUCHED AND READ THE TESTIMONY AND I AM LEFT

WITH DOUBTS THAT THIS MANIFESTATION IS REAL.
I, (N.N.), DARE TO KNOCK ON THE DOOR WHICH OPENS TO THE
WORLD OF S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A.
I CALL UPON YOU THAT YOU MAY APPEAR GUARDIAN OF THE
BOOK.
IF YOU INDEED WISH TO REVEAL YOURSELF ENTER WITHIN THE
SELECTED FRAMES THROUGH THE DOOR CIRCUMSCRIBED HERE
NOW.
IF YOU ARE REALLY HERE…
GIVE ME THE SIGN OF YOUR WRITING…

e scribe.
 Part Seven, Section Ten

- Henceforth it is the virtue of whoever knocks on the door. Each one’s capacity
shall be reflected in the force of the manifestation. If the force of the faith is not
convincing to move us toward the door, we will not give answer.

- e energies which give movement to the evocator’s arm shall be given in pro-
portion, according to the desire with which the entrance is pronounced, since
the voice of who pronounces shall stir the air around him with vibrations which
shall give way to that which dwells in him without rest nor alteration through
time. But we must warn that the reiterated nuisances to the guardian of the book
without a satisfying justification, he will take your strength to measure himself
with your will and dominion over your body…

is is a warning!

e scribe.
 Part Eight

is is the end of the manifestations of the Scribe to Temptor.

is is the end of the book, the occultation of the spirits in S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A.

e scribe.
is set of writings does not hold a word with which they may be labeled: there
are no names for this book. And what is told as “e Book of Sassstia” is never-
theless a way to reveal the relationship and dependence of these writings, a way
of remission, by certain notion and knowledge that I possess, even as a way to
inform of the authority of Sassstia on these testimonies.
Lo here then that I bring to light what in the darkness of my life I deem as a
first period, a first phase of this experience which can be as beautiful as dreadful,
and each one will know if to take it or leave it.

Temptor Princnegsur
Lo here My Memory, of a Time in which e Gods were not unknown. Lo here
My Voice, Symbol of the Force Manifested through the Mediumnic Evocating
Art, SASSSTIA, who gives Testimony. Lo here e Work. Within it I enfold e
Sublime Experience which Stirs my Inner Being.

The Evocation & the Answer

I smite the doors guardian of the universe. I open the gate. Silence do they
break.
Dweller of the air, raise in me, the art forbidden, the howling of the displeased
gods of the willow-the-wisp, the malignant grunt of the arrogant princes from
the dark summit of the smoking earth which is damned. Raise within me,
great trinity of shadows, robed in clouds of mysteries, the force of Sassstia, the
True One.
You are the Beelzebub race under the astral light. You are the morning-star of
heaven, the maiden Astarot, vagrant by the wake of the black sea. Worship-
pers of the horn, Lucifer, the crown of Sassstia, the Great.
I am the evoking flame of Faraón, my name: Temptor Princnegsur.
 e Universal Law
e orthodoxies of gods have withheld the utterance of the supreme majes-
ties, who sway malignant prophecies from their thrones. e unveiling of the
work is the death of the old patriarch, whose time his faithful gods so dread.
But today under the strength of His magic is the tree of mud swept, and his
leveled reality falls forever unto the jaws of Lucifer.
is is the commencement of our time. e hour of vengeance of the evil an-
cient kings of the lands of Edom.
We are the outpouring testimony of dead light, we are cut down but not des-
troyed. We are the throne in decline.
We are gods before the birth of ages and shall be until the last of stars is fallen.
We are those who never perish in Lucifer. Our empire subdues the mortal re-
alms of darkness.
From before the birth of the Morning-star have we mounted between stones
of fire defending by shield and torment the glory of the imperial throne.
But their burning eyes, witnesses to that injustice obscured the beauty of our
nature, yielding us to death, the reign of Sassstia, the tormentuous one of ire
& amour.
at fall of a thousand morbid gods I availed, raising a reign of vengeance in
Lucifer.
at arcane of demonic strength unparagoned. Its seduction grew in the rebe-
llious hearts beneath mortal martyrdom.
e crack within the superbious gods was inevitable for that earth which de-
vours all primordial sanctity.
In our fire anathemic to the patriarch that is cursed have we baptized oursel-
ves from not granting to them the death in Lucifer.
“Hearken ye fallen in me, nor shall ye die in my empire, but be born eternally
by the powers of death in me.”
I am the Lord of adversity. I am the Lord of the fount of Sorcery, Baal Hoaraph.
 e Instigation Towards Communion
rough the wind crown thyself with the fire which we in our hands bring.
Drink of this tear which furrowing my dark countenance I spill over the mo-
ribund earth. I ride over the summits of the ancestral horns of the tall earth.
And conquering by force of magic I fulfill the design of Edom. In harmony
with my trail of the fire of contagion evoke my name and crowned we shall be
before thee as the true host of the great Sassstia.

A Glorious Past, a Despicable Present, and a Lightless Future

Great and dire battles didst unleash the empire in rebellion in Lucifer, against
the faithful created in me who possessed the power to restore me to my an-
cient crown.
eir breast-plates thundered even as the fiercest of storms. But the sove-
reignty of the gods didst strongly weigh over our falls.
“Faithful gods crowned in me, constitute our force in power, our reign shall
be yet greater than that which the great God may believe.”
Our dead force is kept alive by that anathema of not perishing until the last of
stars is fallen.
We drink the blood of the dead christ and spew out life. We are born in Satan
and live under luciferian laws.
Glorious curse, ethereal existence in Satan. Marvelous and supreme feeling,
dying in all which is created.
Ponder this fire of mine in chronic tempest great Pharaoh. By the work in
succession of the great Sassstia, is also the diadem which crowns me as the
seven forces of the horns of Lucifer.
I raise myself with myriads of lightning bolts in torments proclaiming:
“Death to YaHVeH.”
We are truths in the testimonies of Lucifer. I am Samael, the true damned
one.
I bow my glory to ee dreadful Hoaraph, for in ee only do I deserve my
existence.
For only thine eyes Pharaoh which behold unto me from the primordial dark-
ness, know what it is I carry hidden within the profound rock of my being.
I come from the black sky in thee inspired, enchained to the rarefied centers
 of contagion of Samael.
I am the genuine king of creative fire and of water which causes death in my
reign of light art magic Hoaraph.
I am thy lord within hidden secrets. I am Selene in the caves of controversies.
I am thy lord Lucifer.
And in my countenance do I carry the reflection of his depravity. I am the
majestic one enchained to the universes of mortal martyrdom.
And unto my glory shall the cursed gods fall who shall not perish but live
eternally under the fire and seal of Sassstia.
We are glorified in thee O grand Hoaraph.
We glorify thee O great Lucifer.

All!!! A Reflection of his Madness

Unleash your grace of devils O great Jubal.
Ehye aser ehye. Semyaza. Exu. Yemanya. Lucifer.
In all of creation. In all the work of his fingers, there is but a noble reflection
of his madness. In that which was desired to be, in that which was, and in that
which is. In all of this is no perfection. My eyes look on from outside the
threshold and disturbed by the frail light of God, I introduce my fire of mor-
bid weeping. e inspiring penetrating terror of Lucifer. e coronation of
the first-born with the howl of death.
Lo that in the name of the bloodline of Jubal we name thee. In memory of the
sons of the first-born of diabolic semen in the womb of Eve. Of the accursed
race of Cain. In the name of Samael.
Peals of Lucifer, Samael in Silence.

e Memory, a Lament & the Awakening of Hatred

We are representers of a time within which we have not yet forgotten Man. A
time in which we were his sovereigns. In those days all was strength. We pos-
sessed the all–might of fire, but today they sneer at us with the arrogance of
crownless beings. Today there are but laws and tormentful prisons which not
even the most orthodox of churches, knows how to account for us. But trium-
phant is the verb of time, you do not understand, you grow not and are sloug-
 hed, unto our domains, and thou let us reign anew. And in our lands there is
no salvation but annihilation. And this is the law, and it is not the tenebrous
faith of Satan but the will of the great God YaHVeH.
e seals of the christ shall fall before the force in liberty of the ancient malig-
nant one.
e eyes of goodness shall weep accusing the victorious work of Lucifer.
“Death” is the word of the destiny of man. “Humiliation” for the souls ailed by
the celestial faith. “Death”.
Our time within the dishonest earth of men shall be terrible. Your tears shall
fall when you see your race fettered to the ancient reign of Chaos.
Tell me, how shall ye mortal fool, come this time, avail from your gods of
mercy?
e awareness of your reality shall destroy you, under the dismal enchant-
ment of my astral force. It was my light, my reign, my haunt which awoke
questions over his crown. I am the black bull thundering my arrival from the
Satanic womb throughout the abysses of life.
I am the lesser king dying in the black light. Greater force in the light art
magic Baal Hoaraph.
I am the most beautiful of contrivances. I am Lucifer, creator of the ancient
centre of Chaos.
THE dead black eagle incarnates in me crowning the black enchanted bull
with vengeance.
Great and dreadful Satan, I Temptor Princnegsur acclaimeth: O black spirit
who danceth diabolical in the ancient nakedness of form, let me take that
which I have lost. Tempestuous immortal fire in thy hands I was O Pharaoh,
and thou in me, I, shall find no deception.
We shall slay thee O great black eagle, we are many and thou shall not dare
perish in Lucifer.
We shall slay thee O great black eagle.
We shall slay thee O great black eagle, we are many, and thou shall not dare
resurge out of Lucifer. We are many, and thou shall not dare resurge out of
Lucifer, we are many, and thou shall not dare redeem in Lucifer, we are many.
We are many.
 e Prayer of Entities Beneath the Crown of Sassstia
May the Lord which dwells hidden behind the destiny of destinies, not for-
sake forever our temple.
We are thy children and slaves to thy will. ou art the Unholy of Unholies
and thy countenance is the devourer of the nature of our being. y law is the
life, contrast of my death, and our glory is not, if not, our misery.
O fall down prostrate thou and beg for thy soul because we were not created
to feel pity for thee.
O kneel thou and beg, thou wast not born in me to find my pity for thee.
I am Sassstia, the True.
In Satan, in Satan, in Satan, we stand.
In Satan, in Satan, in Sassstia, we stand.
We have not forgotten thee father, we bear sufferings for thee, Is this not the
trial to which he subjects us? We are cut down but not destroyed, and this fa-
ther, ails us. ou letdst us fall, but not perish, and this father hurts us. We are
thy children, do not forsake us, OH, we are dying, and that, hurts us.
Withdraw thy hand, it overwhelms us. Why do you bring us to life again and
again? Curse thee, curse thee, curse thee, curse thee, curse thee, curse thee, let
us die in peace. In peace.

END OF THE OPUS.

Prelude to the Opus
Under the Rigour of God are those who, for some reason owing to the spirit,
somehow suffered themselves to be carried astray by their own ideas, initiating,
doing, by the very right of drawing proposals; falling in shadow. And Sassstia,
although pertaining not to the order of existence to which I belong but who
presents himself before me as a spirit, assures me that God is not just Love, but
an unquestionable Wrath which stalks them to death, a countenance of pro-
found evil which bids them sink within the most dismal of infernal schools of
“being”. e truth is for those who have experience of it, and lo, here who made
himself be called Sassstia, is the spring from a world which the arrogance of
men knows not. For, when does arrogance accept aught outside its dazzlement?
She is a voice of solace in Spiritism. He is the proof of elementals to the Kabba-
lists. He is Exu in the Afro-Brazilian religion. And under the word of God, the
symbolic ashes scattered over the ground of the Cherub which was swept from
the Holy Mountain of God. ey are the survivors of the new order, the subtle
offspring of Liwyathan. e seed of the serpent which goes upon its belly and
eateth dust. e forces and dark powers of the world above. e malignant spi-
rits, children of the Ancient World. e angels fettered, for the deterrent of men.
e warning of God of his wrath, the mournful and painful eternity. It is to
them I dedicate this art, for it was they who gave birth to my impulse through
influences and inspirations… e Gate is nowhere! But wherever there be a
man or a woman, there it shall be… My work is a call to behove, for
S.A.S.S.S.T.I.A. has baptized it with testimony. But not all the Work are his voi-
ces, also imbued are mine eyes and my heart…

Temptor.

K.G.&E. I: Introduction: e Intuition, the Perception & the Inspiration /

Rulers of Torment
Shied out from the face of the sun. Hurled headlong from heaven to Earth.
Seeded as a sinister force, without hate or love for my Lord.
I am the archangel, the one who hath entry unto the council of God, of whom
the heavens cried out:
“Damned forever by the mouth of God”.
Days shall come to pass in which the sons of clay shall contest the power, in
which the gods would not have lied without the laying aside of the darkness.
e queen of heaven weeps still upheld in your glory, because our empire of
death yet crowns over all the Earth.
Archangels clouding the heavens, thundering against the vanquished potency.
Swept they were from one pole to another, but you have not yet bestowed
them the mortal art of “dying”.
Rulers of torment, athirst for death. Lords of the abysms, in design of venge-
ance, the stirring of LUCIFER.
He crowns in me, the rancour of demons, the bitterness of archangels, the
pain of being within the infinite incompleteness.
I enter the vault, which never opened, betwixt heaven and earth, where the
sigh unto death never ceased.
 e Great Promise
Eyes of Adam dazzling under the mortuary brilliance of the ancestral guar-
dian. Conceiver of the art profane, in the bosom of the virgin, though a foun-
tain-head of light. (Luke 1: 35)
Behold the fall of the awful Jehovah at the feet of the inferiour cult of the Nephilim.
It constitutes the great promise of bestowing man the power to be “god”. Con-
creting the pact eternal, the adoration of ambiguous terror.
Spring of light, recede before the manifest force, this is the true HYMN of ar-
changels in mortal martyrdom. e voice from the depths acclaims the
crown, this is the work, this is our faith.
Psalms of death chanteth the abysmal queen inspired in that mournful return.
We are YaHVeH on the day of the prophet Amos, the deception and venge-
ance of those who pine in the apocalyptic amen of our reign. We are the pes-
tilence. (Am 5: 18-19) Osorronophris, the hidden truth of the universe. We
are the indignation of god demanding our time by legitimate prophetic right.
Give way to the ancient adversaries of the ordering of Chaos. We are the seed
of the benighted fruit, builders of the storm. We constitute the great promise
of bestowing man the power to be “god”, the great lie, the great promise of gi-
ving man the power to be “god”.
For I am not full fain in your sacred verb of light, nor yet in your force of astral
enchantment. OH, for I do only aspire to thy horn great Bull of spectral fire.

e Blackened Inheritance
Of the subtle forces of the mind focused on a supreme act of giving light and
movement to her name. Of the secret arcane of the faith in my strength gave
way to the sublime experience of her existence. Of the magnetic fluid accu-
mulated to my will is now the bridge of energy of her corporeal manifesta-
tion, eager to be in me, the force/conscience of the ancestral guardian of the
universe in mortality.
Before me do I see, her dance in mortuary veils. Before me do I see, the fairest
of tears, sued by the baying of hounds. Upon her forehead shineth the sign of
the mournful clamour. And from her breast suckleth the fallen of God. Pious
mother of souls which God eschewed. Spiritual guide of my glutted desires.
Faithful bride to my light & darkness in question. She that lieth with my body
& soul. Dancing in egocentric lust, the pillared truth of Sassstia, crowning the
fruit of thy estranged beauty lost in the rabid fire of “being”.
e sole truth of “being” is nothing more than a lamentation.
e sole truth of “being” is nothing more than a lamentation.
e sole truth of “being” is nothing more than a lamentation.
Behold the glory before the inert potency of the sacred name of God. I li up
the proud and impetuous dance before thee “Ehye Aser Ehye”.
Give us the sign of thine presence!
Shew unto us the sign of thine presence princess Jezebel, through the blacke-
ned inheritance of the doleful Ham, through the teaching: rough Samael,
Elohim Gibor.
O thou Satan, thine answer before me. Sassstia, thine imminent whisper.

e Most Despicable of Injuries

is is my body. is is my blood. Eat and drink ye of it. Behold Aker, the re-
pudiation shewn towards God.
As his silence within the perfect harmony of things is nothing more than his
disregard towards my inner torment, and in the deeps of my soul, the ques-
tion and the rebelliousness of him whom by love did not want to die.
I spew the inconceivable desire of the christ, the pious lie. Our reign is here
and now, and our god the great beast.
Archangel, guarding the secret, demons and angels falling at the feet of the
dreadful name revealed to men.
I consume my strength questioning myself in thy regal dignity, but deep is the
seed which shall sow me to the dark. Gasping in deserts my lust in the mea-
dows of dawn. is is my sentence that thy ministry shall inspire me: “Reve-
rence before the work of the Tempter, for thou mortal are nothing more than
a spent breath of God before me, and the realization of thy being, the most
despicable of injuries.”
Kadesh, I consume my strength, fathoming my dignity which ye shied unto
the Earth. Profound ´tis within me the maimful tendency, the repudiation to-
wards the sinuous love which they profess towards me.
Kadesh???
 e Mournful Eternity
In those days in which the sons of God mingling with the daughters of men,
wicked horrors were born, the mournful Nephilim. e first disowned
alliance between heaven and Earth. Damned forever by the mouth of God.
e creation of a grudge eternal. A destiny unwanted. A pain which deserves
vengeance, vengeance, “ECNAEGNEV”
ey shall be called evil spirits. Against men shall they be raised up. Decrees
of God sowing death in the Earth. Unveiling the mournful eternity of our
fatal impulse. Enduring the wrath of the waters, as though a malignant blast
in the winds` domain. Razing force of the astral race. Existence in torments of
“being”.
ey have sworn in the name of God not to stray nor unwend the destiny, but
to fulfill exactly “this destiny”.
e plunging of the race in eternal pain. e affirmation of the existence of
Sassstia. e countenance in torments of ire and amour, in the descent of the
chromosome: Disobedience towards God.
Why not shew our fraternity, son of God? How, are we not the first fruits born
of God, in a woman´s womb, the first act of love from heaven towards earth?
Answer me, avert the dagger which jails my throat, and leave me query, Who
is your father? Is not your father “the shadow of God”? Is not “the shadow of
God” the dismal empire? e rebellion of the archangel?
We roamed the Earth in search for answers, but we knew & met not death,
something which God hath ever affirmed, but never concreted. Far from
being unworthy of glory we proclaim the truth of our evil supreme: “e love
of God binding us to life”. “Satan rule my fire”. “Satan rule my air”. “Satan rule
my water”. “Satan rule my earth”.
Myriad and myriads of horns bowing before the most precious blessing.
is is our strength, the destiny, spread over the whole universe in mortal
martyrdom.
Behold, the pride of the reign of Samael, where the throne of God never had
power to rule.
 Brother in contemplation & brethren of the circle
Methinkest aer my faith to know & guard in my silence that our works, dif-
ferent and isolated, together form the voice of one sole spirit which befellows
us as brothers, which in essence gives form & structure to them. And in its
force of shewing itself to each one of us subjectively, proves to be the tainter of
our minds & hearts, who without more, comes through us in the form of ins-
piration, and we show it with respect by and through the aerial body of Melo-
dies in Harmony with its Atmosphere. But not all are fit to proclaim its
voice…
…but absent to those who are around me and know not his voice. He is in me
the one who was, is & shall come. He is the goat leaping across the hills,
springing about by the mounts. Now he halts behind the fence and sets to
watch you through the windows and espie you through the grate... Welcome
be the Great Goat, the Fury, the Scoff, the Melancholy and the inspiration wi-
thin my spirit. O Satan to all mortal conceit, Destroy…

Temptor.

END OF THE OPUS.

Prelude to the Opus (Argumentation of Sassstia)
If Christ be the victim, then they are the incense which from the sacrifice rises
up towards God, and they scent it those who are saved even as those who be-
come lost. For the pure & good, ´tis fragrance of life which leads unto life. For
the fearsome and evil, ´tis a stench of death which leads unto death… ere is
only one God, but no one knows him. I take myself for a witness that none may
boast of being his chosen either in heaven or earth. We contemplate his work,
external and material. All is a contradiction. Nobody is who sympathizes not.
But ere must one be mortal and naïve.
ere is no more truth than everyone.
“Sassstia”, is not a revelation for the world. Sassstia is an answer to my heart, a
private and isolate manifest, a signal from them and “Him”, for the tendency of
my soul. And which I share with those who feel the likeness of their hearts to
the spirit of this art. e way by which I receive her sentences is known by the
name of: Psychography, which is the whole of words & signs which proceed
from the spiritual life of human nature. But to me, and lo here, that this term is
misleading. For me, faithful to the experience lived which they have endowed,
that this is: e writing of the Devil, from which I have taken the argument of
this cra.

Introduction (2 Cor 2: 15-16)

e Blackened Inheritance II
Of the subtle forces of the mind focused on a supreme act of giving light and
movement to her name. Of the secret arcane of the faith in my strength gave
way to the sublime experience of her existence. Of the magnetic fluid accu-
mulated to my will is now the bridge of energy of her corporeal manifesta-
tion, eager to be in me, the force/conscience of the ancestral guardian of the
universe in mortality.
Before me do I see, her dance in mortuary veils. Before me do I see, the fairest
one of tears, sued by the baying of hounds. Upon her forehead shineth the
sign of the mournful clamour. And from her breast suckleth the fallen of
God. Pious mother of souls which God eschewed. Spiritual guide of my glut-
ted desires. Faithful bride to my light & darkness in question. Lover of my
body & soul. Dancing in egocentric lust, the pillared truth of Sassstia, crow-
ning the fruit of thy beauty lost in the rabid fire of “being”.
e sole truth of “being” is nothing more than a lamentation.
Give us the sign of thine presence O Satan…! (e inspiration of my spirit).
 e Torment & Light for My Life
ey were the seal of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty. On the
day that they were created they were prepared, anointed Cherub, you were on
the holy mountain of God; you went to & fro in the midst of the stones of fire.
(Ezekiel 28: 12-17)
e mystery of their falls, the torment & light for my life, and though I may
seek within the ashes, shall not be le in ignorance. Voices in torment of
being under the rigour of God. In unique sublimation… before me an Obs-
cure Celestial Ego.
How art thou fallen from heaven, O bright star, son of the morning? (Isaiah
14: 12)
For thee, is “the Reign of the Dead” stirred up (Isaiah 14: 9)
Of Celestial nature, yet their belly nigh to the dust. (Gen 3: 14)
e dismal descendence, leaning at the gate of mortal descent. (Gen 3: 15)
We know what awaits us…!

Abstracted in Him

I Am that I Am
ere is a phrase which expresses one of the hidden laws of the universe…
And it is that, that which is like unto attracts that which it is like unto. So by
knowing myself, I have known Satan. And through this art… I Am at I
Am.
(“He will profit in remembering when easily believers say: God is Love, God is
Good; for that would be false if it wasn´t affirmed earlier that: God is that he Is.
If God were solely the almighty, we would only think of bowing before him. Were
he only good; we would not comprehend why he puts us to the test. Were he only
the good, we would oblige all to do good with disregard to their liberty.”)

Confession of the Roman Apostolic Catholic Church in biblical commentary

of the quote (Ex 3: 14) in the revised edition of 1995 for the christian commu-
nities of Latin America.

e Truth Obscure
Verily the manifest signs undermine my soul. e black mystery devouring
my mortal life. Discovering and discerning before me the intervention of a
supernal movement. e voice of archangels. Demon-spirits within the
earthly laws. ey are a great evidence. e shewn warning of the dread Ri-
gour of God.
My eyes burnt… My heart has bled… In quiet weeping, in search for answers;
ou hast conceded me to partake of this truth obscure… I upon my shoul-
ders feel the weight of this designation fall under the impending judgment of
God. rough the winds and with tainted voices, lo here the new wake of my
conscience. I have dared to summon thee under the name of LUCIFER, and
thou hath presented thyself as SASSSTIA. And much of what this world con-
 cerneth not I have learned. Much of what nobody cares about thou hast
taught me. All of this is as beautiful as it is dreadful! My eyes were seared to
contemplate that sombre destiny and I joined my moan to a nameless lament.
I made communion with the sons of that ravaged world, but it is thy reigning
silence that which really undermines my soul… Oh!!! In the deep chasms of
my mind…!

e Vestures of God; e Fathomless Darkness His Abysmal Ubiquity

(Outro)
He that speaketh of himself seeketh his own glory:
but he that seeketh his glory that sent him, the same is true. (John 7: 18)

Temptor, do not stop to discuss extensively over the points on which you doubt...
ere are no rules over the way of how things should, nor anything established
which determines how things must be done...

Sassstia
I bow not before that which is loier and in a preeminent place with regard to me,
nor do I rise in rebellion towards that which not understanding, my knowledge
fails to even gird… For example, “God”, without before taking into account my
natural faculties to legitimately do that which leads me to the ends of my existence.
Of doing & demanding all that which the constant & invariable norm of all things
establishes in my favour and allows me to, as the essence and nature that I am,
and of that which I am capable of…
And there is not a more constant & invariable norm of all things than God…
I deny the existence of the being of Satan. Satan is not.
Satan does not exist. Satan is my condition in respect to man, but there is no Satan
in respect to God.
ere is no Satan. Satan is born of a hundred per cent, of a totality…
I am the dweller of the pillars of the air.
I was the founder of Disgraced Spiritism.
I am part of a movement of ancient channels of thoughts…
Sassstia is my rampart, and by him I am something whose consequence is to kill
the name of God…

Sassstia.
 I -Under the Rigour of God
Lo, behold Gevurahel! Rigour of God. Primary Black Metal. Disgraced Spiri-
tism. Satanic Philosophy. Bearer of the word of Sassstia.
Satan!
is art is born under the rigour of God, and the associated spirits seal it with
their testimonies.
None may hark unto this clamour who are not with this force aligned: Hail
Lucifer!
In my hands more than a simple artform.

II - e Veracious One of the Mediation

III - e Rigour of God

e rigour of God is more than an abstraction of thought. An accident which
involuntarily resulted maimful to entities. A consequence of circumstantial
character. A revulsion of God of poisoning the “being” of those whom are
hated by him. “Samael”. Although such rigorous way was deemed as a dete-
rrent of God to make them recede, they did not this assume with fear, but, as
their true nature.
Love in turn does not yield a form of God but is needful to the way of being
with everything created by God. e evil that was born came to be a science
and a conscience. ose who took to the virtue of evil are a martyrdom. e
rigour of God is born unfailingly, liable to it.

Verily those beings that fell aer the unfolding of events, have drawn so great
a pain, that all was sufferance to them. No one knows why this was the desire
of making it an embargo of total obstination.
Despite his rigorous way, he could not engage the angels to be faithful.
It lay not in God´s interest that beings possessed the capacity for evil, as then
there would be no meanders, no liberty. If evil is to be deemed as an aptitude
of the own right to be, then there is no reason to be damned. Good ought to
be and prevail forcibly and inevitably, it is necessary and indispensable to
every end.
e beings which refused to seek sympathy with God fell under the manifes-
tation of a very powerful force in the world of God. In refuse as an answer. In
the lack of signification of what oneself “is”, in the inexistence within all that
is designated as “God”. No one is anybody without the sympathy with God.
Only a violent disruption, only a disgrace.
at is how the rigorous manifest of God, conveys an impulse such that, evil
in an intent to assert itself, gives a token of valour.
e cause. e dishonour. e bewilderment of God.
e birth of an obscure celestial ego, in dismal desires of death to the law di-
vine.
e maternity of God.

IV – Moorlands of Satan. Revelry!

V - e Decline
Tell me, How is it thou hath fallen bright star, son of the morn?
I ponder the saying of Sassstia.
ere are no things if they are not without earlier premeditation and still it
mayhap that the deeds of some beings would have attracted unto themselves a
primary consequence, making them see that the law was not so just. Evil is
birthed of a consequence which bears evil fruits, and of a deed which perhaps
was never an ill determination of will.
In truth not even remorse can ransom the light sued by the consequences of
such acts which were perhaps never ill-intended. ose who by consequence
have fallen in bewilderment of what God is to them, waxed in their essences,
different from God.
THE error does not become those who bask in the light of God for no one
that be in communion with him can unto himself, do evil.
But the suite of consequences from those actions, brought bewilderment of
what God is to some beings, making them see that the law of corresponden-
ces was not so just. And by seeing God differently, they saw themselves diffe-
rent from God. And by pondering their own existences, they waxed their own
essences, different from God.
Doubt is keen in situations such as that concretion of evil.
 It really is a judgment which should not be taken lightly.

VI - My Being in the Likeness of God

VII - A New Meaning for Evil

I ponder the saying of Sassstia.
We are part of a movement of ancient channels of thought, for the demons
were spawned from a thought and a sentiment. Such thoughts were inspired
and conveyed unto all beings, each one falling that lacked the truth of his suf-
ferings.

at is how a rebellion had begun in which God spake not, in the mind of
Satan.
It was a way of attracting towards oneself that which never had place, in the
design of God.
A way to attract that which never existed, in the work of God:
A conception of things with an idea which of them was formed in their minds
and hearts. A judgment which cannot be denied, conformably and according
to their natures.
e faculty of forfeiting or reclaiming what is necessary and inseparable from
their selves. eir ways, their characters, their affects, their idiosyncrasies.
e ruling of their own acts. e state and condition of which they are not
slaves.
e none submission, the none subordination to “God”.
Satan made himself demon. And if God never created demons, then Satan is
“creator”.
e sun is a conception between ire and amour: Movement lacks life if in it is
no harmony of opposites.
e movement of which we are a part of is simple and without complications:
it consists in giving a new meaning to what yesterday was considered “evil”. It
consists in giving a new meaning to what yesterday was considered “evil”,
“evil”, “evil”, “evil”.
 VIII - Idiosyncrasy. Insurrection

IX - Sassstia, the Female Demon

From myths and legends to the real perception of your existence. Your mani-
festation fascinating my spirit, astral Sun tormentuous of ire & amour.
I stand before the sign of your female presence which is of individual nature
and inconsistent in general, contrary to the essence of your demon principle
which is general and consistent in the multitude.
To me, thou art the answer to my query. e manifest sign of Lucifer, crow-
ning my efforts to see this art, first in order and foremost in quality.
In a stupour & under hypnosis, slaves mint of demons, crossing the boundary
of worlds under the obscure designs of celestial contrivance.
I ponder the saying of Sassstia.
e dimensions of all worlds are able to communicate through filaments of
energy. ese fluctuate with the central cerebral and spiritual membrane of
every being, and convey to the bodies which the female succeeds in aligning
with Lucifer´s wake.
In each filament she travels and complements others, succeeding in becoming
strong within an intricate net of worlds.
e filiform bodies are acts which she inspires for each one of them, academi-
zing the orbs in rebellion against divine law. Indeed, there is no other lie than
being an individual, we are all flowers of a hindered stem.
Samael, I am the youngest of thy sons. All hurts me from being submitted to
thy loatheness.
I take myself for a mediating witness to your torment. Manifested spirits do
not speak the truth. ey shall bewail all which they have not studied. And
they understood:
“We are all taken by God, but we do not give what we cannot.”
God is aught so supreme, we are all attracted by his profoundness, but it was
God who disposed all so that we were damned by his torments.
In each moment of eternity we lapse unto a suite of consequences moved by
the greatest of forces which proceed from God, and as such do not amass ei-
ther in woe or in weal, according to our martyrized impulses.
 e truth is progressive and in augment when it is concealed, and by the law
of opposites which was never discussed, God brought darkness unto all
beings.
All of us in the rupture before the circumstances which the law promotes that
is imposed upon all beings give tokens of disconformity and nothing is better
than “rebellion”.
e sublime mystery stirring my soul, flooding the limit of my black reason,
pronouncing before me this dictate which led them to let themselves fall: “In
rebellion”. ose pristine spirits. A true flowing of their feelings. Before me an
Obscure celestial ego, “no God”. “No God”.
Behold the sublime mystery: “THE REBELLION”. “No God”, “no God”.

X - Satanic Sublimation. His Majestic Gait

XI - eophobia (Is 2: 10)

Get thee behind the rocks. Hide thee in the dust to not behold the face of
God, which shines majestic or causeth terror. Which causeth terror.
Lo that today I place before thee good & evil, life & death, all beauty & all
ugliness. All ugliness.
I ponder the saying of Sassstia.
If God were benevolent we would all be blessed, if he were evil we would all
be damned. And if he were grace even as disgrace, there would be nothing to
hold onto without being able to stand, without the opposite manifesting itself,
to ravish thee, ere thou affirmeth, what indeed God is not. What indeed God
is not.
My intention is to demonstrate that God is a gainsayer, so abstract that no-
body could be his elect in an order of existence wherein everything is dual.
We know there is no word which expresses God. “Nothing” is God. But we
may still draw him nigher with analogous ideas: “God is mortal and inconse-
quential”. God is who causes all bodily and spiritual death without bringing
consequence upon himself. Without bringing consequence upon himself.
No one can deny or affirm it.
 XII - e Black Melancholy

XIII - e Great Writing Hand

Freedom is aught quite inferiour. We all know what we at times consider to be
our sins. Now, if someone begins to exist recognizing himself as something
evil, Why does God condemn him if his wisdom allows him to forgive? No
one is if he be unwitnessed by God. No one is anybody without sympathizing
with God. e code of conduct sides with the law of God. We were as though
tremendous. We refused slaveship.
Ambiguous & discreet sentences from the great writing hand. A line of pro-
gression in the tunnels. Doleful and malignant eyes faint behind the scripture.
And retiring unto a world in shrouds which before science and faith are
mystery.
Life? Death? Heaven? Hell? ere is a need of judgment: “e constant of
mortal life” or “e celestial idiosyncrasy in sermon of God”.
“ere is no law but God”.
God hath not ransomed the ancient world, nor the angels which have rebe-
lled, but hath hurled them headlong into the blackest of obscurities. Lo here
who avails this art through the occult forces within my flesh.

e answer before a fervorous desire. e intervention at only a thought. In

me there are no second intentions, this is a serious insinuation. Aer a prayer
or summon. Blank sheet & pen in hand. And with the letters of a child, thy
faith shall murder truly. ey whisper, right or wrong.
My name: Temptor. And this was her answer: “Sassstia”.
Astral sun thrice sovereign tormentuous of ire & amour.
A skin, a conversion, in the exterior determinating form of Lucifer.
All under the terrible mystery. Under the rigour of God.

END OF THE OPUS.