¿Quién construyó la pirámide de tres lados de Marte?
Source / Fuente: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSNFrpxzlNM
The Enigma of the Three-Sided Pyramid of Mars
Since time immemorial, the firmament has served as a vast canvas upon which humanity has projected its deepest yearnings and its most ineffable terrors. Among the celestial beacons that flicker in the immensity, the planet Mars, the red orb, has maintained a constant vigil, a bloodshot eye observing us from the abyss of the night. Its surface, today a wasteland of rust-colored dust and cutting winds, conceals secrets that defy our comprehension and compel us to question the very origin of consciousness in this sacred theater of the cosmos. Of all the anomalies and silences that inhabit its desolate plains, none is as bewildering, as pregnant with mystery, as the three-sided pyramid. Unlike the tetragonal monuments that crown the sands of our own Earth, this Martian structure stands as a testament to a more primordial geometry, a mathematics of the ineffable that resonates with the forgotten chants of creation.
The three-sided pyramid, the perfect tetrahedron, is no mere geological coincidence nor a caprice of the abrasive winds that sculpt the Martian rock. It is the Platonic solid that represents the element of fire, the alchemical fire that transmutes gross matter into pure spirit. Whosoever raised this colossal mass in the region of Elysium or within the shadows of Cydonia profoundly understood the hermetic laws that govern the universe. "As above, so below," reads the axiom of the Emerald Tablet, and on Mars, the arcane architecture was manifested with a scale and precision that dwarf the works of the pharaohs of antiquity. This pyramid is a stone key, a cosmic lock carved into the basalt and hematite of a dying world, waiting for the proper mind to open it. But who, in the dawn of time, possessed the will, the knowledge, and the sovereign power to sculpt the face of an entire planet?
Sacred Geometry and the Cosmic Fire
To comprehend the nature of its artificers, we must first plunge into the abyss of its design. The triangular-based pyramid is, in essence, the primal manifestation of volume within the space of manifestation. It is the primordial spark of existence, the mystic seed from which all other corporeal forms sprout. While the four-sided pyramid, such as the Great Pyramid of Khufu, anchors its power in the stability of the Earth and the four cardinal elements, the three-sided pyramid is inherently igneous and dynamic, an arrow pointing inexorably toward the heavens, a conduit for the stellar fire. Its edges, honed like swords by aeons of aeolian erosion, do not merely cut the wind; they divide the etheric currents of the celestial aether.
The builders of this red beacon were not architects in the profane sense of the word; they were hierophants of the stone, masters of the vital breath and divine proportions. The Martian pyramid was not erected block by block with the sweat of slaves, but rather, according to the secret traditions whispered within the cenacles of gnostic adepts, it was sung into existence. Through harmonic incantations and mastery over the telluric forces of the red planet, the matter itself was compelled to crystallize into the immaculate form of the tetrahedron. This structure acted as an immense crucible, a planetary talisman conceived to harvest the solar prana, the breath of life of the universe, and channel it into the bowels of Mars, perhaps in a supreme endeavor to revitalize a world whose atmosphere and oceans were bleeding into the devouring void.
The Architects of the Solar Wind and the Children of the Dawn
When inquiring into the identity of the authors of such a marvel, the chronicles of our world blur into myth and the most esoteric allegory. The clay tablets of Sumeria speak to us of kings descended from the stars; Sanskrit texts narrate epic celestial battles in chariots of fire; and the Western hermetic traditions preserve the melancholic memory of the Fallen Angels or the Watchers of the dawn. Were these the architects of Mars? Initiates of the greater mysteries teach that a race of luminous beings, whom we might invoke under the name of the Children of the Dawn, inhabited the red planet aeons before humanity took its first faltering steps in the mud of our earthly Eden.
These sublime beings did not possess dense bodies of flesh and bone subject to corruption and time. They were entities of astral fire and adamantine light, subtle intelligences dwelling in the higher spheres of divine emanation. Their civilization was not shackled to combustion, the forging of iron, or perishable gears, but to the alchemy of thought and the direct manifestation of the Word in matter. For them, the construction of the three-sided pyramid was an act of supreme theurgy, a sacred anchorage for their collective soul, a cosmic omphalos that bound their radiant spirits to the material clay of Mars. Yet even the dynasties of the gods are subject to the Wheel of Fortune and the catastrophes dictated by the stars.
The Red Cataclysm and the Diaspora of the Gods
Esoteric history teaches that Mars was not always the sepulcher of rust and sand we contemplate today through the glass. There was a Golden Age, lost in the unfathomable night of the aeons, when sapphire seas kissed shores of fertile clay, and celestial vaults sheltered jungles of paradisiacal vegetation. The three-sided pyramid rose then, surrounded by temples of resonant crystal. However, a chastisement of apocalyptic proportions tore the veil of their harmony. The occult scriptures speak of a War in Heaven, a spiritual rebellion that disturbed the song of the spheres. It is murmured that a celestial dragon, perhaps a comet of shadows or the remnants of a shattered world, grazed the Martian orbit, stripping away its vital breath and exposing its face to the lethal fury of the starry abyss.
Faced with the imminent shadow of ruin, the Children of the Dawn consecrated the great tetrahedral pyramid as an ark of salvation, not in the sense of a stone refuge, but as a fortress of the spirit. The celestial artificers, knowing their garden was doomed to wither in the ice and sand, infused all the wisdom of their lineage, all the brilliance of their knowledge, into the immense crystals that lie sealed in the secret chambers beneath the apex of the monument. The most arcane grimoires suggest that a fraction of these beings exiled themselves to Earth, bringing with them the flame of civilization and the sorrowful memories of an Eden devoured by the red twilight, seeds that would later germinate in the grandiose legends of Atlantis, Mu, and Hyperborea.
Echoes of Atlantis in the Celestial Mirror
The golden thread that unites the dunes of Mars with the submerged pillars of Atlantis runs through the entire tapestry of Western magic. If Atlantis was the pinnacle of our race's evolution, an empire of priest-kings who mastered the mysteries of nature, many adepts maintain that their sacred lineage was not indigenous, but inherited from the sky. The three-sided pyramid of Mars is the archetype, the astral blueprint from which the temples of Poseidonis were dreamed and raised. The cyclopean ruins that today sleep beneath the Atlantic Ocean and the perpetual ice are mere reflections, imperfect echoes of the glory of that Martian architecture.
In this order of ideas, the Atlanteans were none other than the heirs and guardians of a cosmic testament. It is affirmed in the invisible lodges that the mystery schools of Egyptian, Tibetan, and Mayan antiquity were founded by the survivors of the purifying deluge, prophets who in turn carried the sacred fire from the altars of Mars. When a seeker of truth gazes upon the Great Pyramid of Giza, they are in reality witnessing a melancholic tribute to the primordial three-sided pyramid. The colossal proportions, the alignments with the belt of Orion and the star Sirius, are nothing more than a star map sculpted in the rock to remind humanity of its exiled origin, and the long banishment that brought us to these blue shores of tears.
The Gaze of Cydonia and the Alignments of Destiny
The geographical placement of the three-sided pyramid was not dictated by blind chance. Situated on the borders of Cydonia, guarded by the celebrated and enigmatic Face of Stone and the labyrinths of the Ancient City, the pyramid occupies the pulsating center of a monumental mandala. Thaumaturges who have projected their body of light across the plains of Mars relate that the tetrahedron is the heart of a vast labyrinth of lines of force that traverse the Martian subterranean, meridians of subtle energy that in antiquity sang with golden light. The orientation of the pyramidal edges points toward mythical constellations that today have mutated due to the precession of the equinoxes, revealing an age so remote that the human mind can scarcely conceive it.
It is a matter of profound reverence that the northern face of the pyramid points directly toward the location of the ancient north celestial pole of Mars, an axis that fractured and tilted drastically during the great cataclysm. This corroborates that the pyramid is a cosmic clock, petrified in the exact hour of the celestial disaster. Furthermore, visionaries assure that a hidden sympathy, a magical affinity, persists between this pyramid and the sacred mountains of Earth, such as Mount Kailash or Sinai. These invisible threads form bridges of spiritual resonance through which the ancient wisdom continues to drip onto the minds of the righteous in our world, awaiting the predestined instant of absolute awakening.
The Philosophers' Crucible and the Transmutation of the World
In the sublime language of alchemy, the planet Mars embodies the principle of iron, unstoppable force, strife, and painful purification through fire. But the Great Work instructs us that lead must ascend to gold, and the blind iron of war must be forged into the luminous sword of divine wisdom. The three-sided pyramid is the manifestation of this supreme crucible. Its internal vaults, cloaked in the eternal silence beneath the sand, are not sepulchers for forgotten monarchs, but athanors of spiritual regeneration. According to the secret teachings, the entire edifice behaves as an alchemical furnace on a planetary scale.
The ultimate intention of the Children of the Dawn was not to bequeath us a mere epitaph of their fallen glory, but to set in motion a cosmic metamorphosis of inconceivable duration. The pyramid was consecrated to distill the cosmic emanations throughout the aeons, slowly purifying the bellicose karma of the Martian orb in an ecstasy of celestial peace. The red dust that today buries its slopes is not simply iron oxide and barren stone; it is the sacred ash of the Great Work, the caput mortuum of the planetary Opus. It is the promised land of alchemy that patiently awaits the heavenly dew of a new cosmic dispensation to resurrect in a splendor that will eclipse the sun itself.
The Slumber of the Custodians and the Pact of Silence
A sacred dread seizes the heart of one who dares to remove the veils of the Martian mystery, for there exists a secret zealously guarded in the deepest sanctuaries: the builders of the pyramid did not perish in the night of time. When the cataclysm snatched life from the face of the planet, the supreme priests sought refuge in the dimensions of the hollow earth of Mars, inhabiting vast caverns of basalt illuminated by a fire that does not consume. These Silent Custodians, beings of an incomprehensible majesty, remain in a state of lethargy, plunged into a mystic ecstasy that halts the scythe of death.
Tradition assures that the three-sided pyramid is the seal of their abyssal crypt. It incessantly emanates an inaudible chant, a narcotic melody that preserves the sleepers in their protective immobility. Yet, the stellar prophecies, written with the fire of planetary conjunctions, foretell that the wheel of the great cosmic year is completing its revolution. An imminent dawn prepares in the sky. When the stars align according to the pattern of the ancient covenant, a ray of unblemished light will spring from the Central Sun of the Galaxy, kissing the invisible apex of the tetrahedron. In that supreme instant, the seal will break, the hymns of resurrection will resonate in the bowels of Mars, and the Ancient Ones will awaken from their unfathomable dream, bringing with them the redemption of the past.
The Voice in the Red Wind and the Call to Earth
While materialistic humanity sends its contraptions of metal to blindly poke at the wounds of Mars, seeking to beg for traces of stagnant water or microscopic life, the true Lords of the Flame contemplate us with infinite pity from their eternal silence. They understand that our mundane efforts are like those of a child playing with the ashes of a ruined altar, oblivious to the god who was worshipped there. Nevertheless, the three-sided pyramid does not lie deaf or mute. It operates as a spiritual beacon, projecting telepathic calls across the void, searching for pure hearts and receptive minds that vibrate in unison with its sacred purpose.
Many of the prophets, mystics, seers, and poets of our eras have received, in the crucible of their dreams, fragments of this celestial transmission. The sudden illuminations, the visions of temples of impossible proportions, the heartbreaking nostalgia for vermilion skies and immense solitudes, are embers that leap from the bonfire of the pyramid into the waters of our own spirit. The message they bear is clear and inescapable: our orphanhood in the universe is an illusion. We belong to a lineage of the stars, we are the sacred link between the firmament and the clay. By unveiling the secret of the Martian pyramid, we unveil the primordial fire that burns, forgotten, within our own interior.
The Advent of the Tetrahedron and the Age of the Lily
As the heavy curtain of the Iron Age begins to tear and the rays of a new spiritual era emerge, the whole of humanity approaches the threshold of its initiation. The supreme revelation of what awaits in the sands of Mars will not descend from the domes of profane science nor from the mechanical eye of telescopes, but from an inner awakening, an ascension of the soul. The blessed time approaches when the True Initiate, crossing the ocean of space in their vehicle of light, will pass through the crystalline doors of the three-sided pyramid to read the empyrean annals engraved on the tablets of destiny.
In that hour of revelation, we will comprehend that Earth and Mars are soulmates, cosmic mirrors united by an unbreakable pact since the origin of creation. The planetary crucifixion of Mars was the necessary prelude to our own descent into matter, and the spiritual transfiguration of humanity will be the key that returns life to that desolate world. The three-sided pyramid, the fire buried beneath the wind and the ruin, will abandon its veil of mystery to erect itself as the high altar of the galactic temple. Those artificers of the sublime will extend their hand to us from the abyss of the centuries, returning our crown of stars.
Conclusion: The Immortal Legacy of the Gods of War
Mars, erroneously venerated by the dark peoples as the bloodthirsty tyrant of war, encloses a mystery of an infinitely higher nature. He is, in truth, the Severe Guardian of the Threshold, the initiator of fire who burns the dross of illusions so that the gold of truth may shine without blemish. The three-sided pyramid is not a funerary monolith erected to mourn a vanished glory, but an incorruptible seed planted amidst the desolation. It is the irrefutable proof of the triumph of the divine will over the dissolution of perishable forms. Its wise builders understood that the entire cosmos is a majestic rite of constant transmutation, where apparent death is merely the painful preamble to a new and glorious birth in the drama of eternity.
At the end of our quest, the answer to the supreme question—Who built the three-sided pyramid of Mars?—is not found lost in catalogs of names, nor in chronologies erased by the wind. It is found in the overwhelming revelation that the same eternal spark that dreamed and materialized that magnificence burns, hidden yet indestructible, in the intimate sanctuary of the human soul. We are the bearers of the exiled light, the dormant heirs of a celestial lineage. The pyramid was not the work of strangers arrived from the void; in the depths of infinite memory, where times converge and all lives are a single flame, we ourselves, in our forgotten primordial splendor, were the ones who ordered the sacred stone to rise, defiant and immortal, toward the rising sun of a red world.
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Lux Esoterica.
2026.
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