i stand knee deep in the blood of your children
they are as food at the feast of my lord
the threshold between the worlds lays open
shadows of the grey spill forth into the light
the colors of your feeble mind shall be erased

It was written of in the papyrus of Ilarnek
the symbols etched upon the ancient cylinders of Kadatheron spoke truth
the stylus of the old gods is dipped in blood of the innocent
to scribe a new tale in the pages of countless aeons

the tentacles of the ancient ones reach forth
into the illusioned safety of your crumbling world
the eyes deny what the human mind cannot comprehend
the throat is yawning in a cry that will never be heard
shadow drowns the soul forever lost
flesh devoured in an exstacy of slime and lust

I cannot convey in mere words the unutterable hideousness
that can dwell in absolute silence and barren immensity . . .
That my callous conjurings could bring forth such
beings of power and indescribable horror
I could never imagine or believe

Though I've been promised in my dreams
a pact was signed in the black blood of my father
with the Olden Ones of starry skies and swirling mists
Upon this damp slab of moldy stone I kneel
before the wondrous might of crawling darkness
Within the circle of cryptic signs and markings

My last human vision:
A monstrous opening,
a cataract of abysmal nothingness

Then the Ancient Ones appeared

The throb of the engines of nightmare
while my soul and flesh parted ways forever . . .

the tentacles of the ancient ones reach forth
into the illusioned safety of your crumbling world

the eyes deny what the human mind cannot comprehend
the throat is yawning in a cry that will never be heard
shadow drowns the soul forever lost flesh
devoured in an exstacy of slime and lust . . .

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