The Death Mask of Cthulhu
Out of my dark dreams, my writhing insanity,
A vision of death with sordid depravity.
It perverts the perception of all time and space,
A herald of doom with cephalapodic face.
A leviathan terror rising from the deep
Where it lay for lost aeons in nightmarish sleep.
Now clawing its way back to night and corruption,
Declaring this earth to be ripe for destruction.
It'll summon the Old Ones with its wickedest magick
And raise up its young from their slumber pelagic.
It'll bring death and enslavement to all and sunder,
But Earth's destruction will send R'lyeh back under.
So this cycle of restless biding restarted
Passed on in dreams this prophecy of horror imparted
To the unknowing few chosen as martyrs,
Those dreaming earth-born apocalypse-starters.
And the prophecy assured when waking that morn,
My once peaceful sanctuary room ripped and torn,
A monster envisioned, a cold message of fear,
My private space degraded and all I hold dear
Polluted, defaced, overshadowed by the hulk
With octopus face, dripping claws and shambling bulk,
Now mounted on my wall, forever in my view,
Permanently fixed, the death mask of Cthulhu.
H. P. Lovecraft, American writer of horror fiction, was born today in 1890.