Poem, Alien, Gothic, Horror, Monster, Non-Erotic
Unease in honor of H.P. Lovecraft.
What lies in the crypt below our very feet?
Unimaginable and unspeakable things.
That is the place where the Elder rest,
Sealed by the ancients with magics and unknown charms.
Is that enough to keep us safe?
There is only a single answer and it is no.
Nothing can kill a god,
No seal is eternal.
Their minds are awake as they sleep,
Ever working at plots to escape their fate.
I beg you not to go down the steps,
I beg you not to enter the crypt below.
There is nothing there but the scheming Elder,
And thoughts so hideous they can make a man insane.
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