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#lovecraftian
I found the two-headed baby deer dying on a bed of soft pine needles under cover of an overturned oak, not five kilometres from my cottage, Its lungs still pumped, Its crimson heart beat weakly through a thin, translucent skin, that decayed before my eyes, until there was no skin, and all the organs lay warm and still, in a heap upon the earth, like waste. A god evaporated. It is human nature to disbelieve that one may be witness to epochal events, so I did not believe that I, of all people, should be witness to the death of time. Epochal: the concept itself is dead. How lucky we were to know time at its cleanest, and most linear! We know now that such constant linearity was the consequence of a living entity, It followed the creature like stench follows a skunk, and we basked in it as if it was the natural state of the world. No more. Time no longer heals, Things do not pass, Or pass only to return. At first we believed this would be manageable, Yes, we thought, we will relive our pain but also our love, Everything shall be magnified! Welcome to an age of great emotions, a new Romanticism! Yet we overestimated how much we help, failed to accept how much we hurt. And we did not realize the nature of evil, which accumulates in a way love does not, To re-experience our love is to know it, again and again, at the same intensity, but to re-experience pain is to increase its volume until it overpowers us, deafening us to everything else. I will never forget the creature's eyes, full of hatred or hubris, yet seeking aid it knew I could not give. How does one save a dying god? It was not my fault! I was but a child asked suddenly to solve a deathbed equation expressed in an undiscovered mathematics, I had to fail, yet in failing I have brought it all upon us. I relive it constantly, Every time its eyes are louder. But it is the hour for my afternoon walk, so I will take a pause and enjoy what remains of living. I will go to my favourite spot overlooking the city, and sit on the iron bench, from where the view is magnificent, Above me, the clouds will form, a tangle of pain and human corpses, and I will sit and ponder until the first blood drops fall, Then the screaming will begin, the final storm will rage, Beating, crimson corpse-clouds under a thin skin of dissipating reality, raining blood until we are left warm and still upon the earth.
0
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 1:38 PM UTC
Terminus
I found the two-headed baby deer dying on a bed of soft pine needles under cover of an overturned oak, not five kilometres from my cottage, Its lungs still pumped, Its crimson heart beat weakly through a thin, translucent skin, that decayed before my eyes, until there was no skin, and all the organs lay warm and still, in a heap upon the earth, like waste. A god evaporated. It is human nature to disbelieve that one may be witness to epochal events, so I did not believe that I, of all people, should be witness to the death of time. Epochal: the concept itself is dead. How lucky we were to know time at its cleanest, and most linear! We know now that such constant linearity was the consequence of a living entity, It followed the creature like stench follows a skunk, and we basked in it as if it was the natural state of the world. No more. Time no longer heals, Things do not pass, Or pass only to return. At first we believed this would be manageable, Yes, we thought, we will relive our pain but also our love, Everything shall be magnified! Welcome to an age of great emotions, a new Romanticism! Yet we overestimated how much we help, failed to accept how much we hurt. And we did not realize the nature of evil, which accumulates in a way love does not, To re-experience our love is to know it, again and again, at the same intensity, but to re-experience pain is to increase its volume until it overpowers us, deafening us to everything else. I will never forget the creature's eyes, full of hatred or hubris, yet seeking aid it knew I could not give. How does one save a dying god? It was not my fault! I was but a child asked suddenly to solve a deathbed equation expressed in an undiscovered mathematics, I had to fail, yet in failing I have brought it all upon us. I relive it constantly, Every time its eyes are louder. But it is the hour for my afternoon walk, so I will take a pause and enjoy what remains of living. I will go to my favourite spot overlooking the city, and sit on the iron bench, from where the view is magnificent, Above me, the clouds will form, a tangle of pain and human corpses, and I will sit and ponder until the first blood drops fall, Then the screaming will begin, the final storm will rage, Beating, crimson corpse-clouds under a thin skin of dissipating reality, raining blood until we are left warm and still upon the earth.
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On snow, his padded footfalls echo low Heart beats: haste, fear As none but its reverberations know The ancient horror lurking near A flash! Before the darkness rushes in Not night but something deeper Tentacles binding from within Swift minions of a speaker Whose very voice is sin Whispering, listen, listen, in the language of the wind Across what remains of summer's leaves A murmured knowledge of the fate of thieves And as the stolen idol drops And the ancient one appears His eyes begin to bleed Discongealing the accumulation of his fears
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Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 6:46 PM UTC
Idyllizer
An eldritch aura permeates a palace, long forgotten. I fell. Which may illuminate my place amongst the rotten. How long these ruins slept, I fear's a desert measured aeon, for sand has creep'd and crept in here, a structure so protean. This place it whispers death and dust, a sister to the barrow. I must escape this depth. I must! These halls are much too narrow. The stench of age, it fills the air, with hints of green and purple. Appendages, they slither there, My thoughts they now encircle. A mutter on the wind calls me, it sends my digits lame. Fluttered eyes. Where two should be, five globules cry my name. That fickle murmor, foe at first, but now I know my error. He tickles thoughts and quenches thirst. Come, how could it sow terror? All is well, I've found a friend, His hug is warm and tight. His many arms they do not end, but wriggle, kiss, and bite.
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Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 5:51 PM UTC
Catacomb
Rosey-colored petals, dear Is that not what you're finding here? Amidst a shore of colors dear Though not the colors of your home. Red and black, oh rage abound! Dark cries and wails, a sea of sound Waves they crash, sea foam surrounds Oh you are still so far from home. The salty air echoes despair For there's no hope to find down there Your doom does Eldritch voice declare, "You're trapped and never going home."
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 1:55 AM UTC
Roses on an Eldritch Shore
I've got a lot of friends, but I don't hear from them; not anymore. I've met them all last summer. Let's just say it was in a cabin. Let's just say, maybe, it's now their coffin. Lately, I've been getting phantasms. I've been seeing them staring back at me, white, blank, starry eyes; standing amidst tall colonies of wild grass. When the sun changes its hue into black, it sends a frightful shiver down my spine. Their bodies morph into a demonic ********** of an amorphous blob with several human legs and slick tendrils pouring out off their orifices. Their eyes sinks back, their brows and lashes shed, their eyelids seal shut. Out of their mouths emerges a fist-sized eyeball. Their skin secretes inky mucus which fuses them together. Then they begin to chant. I couldn't make sense of their eldritch gibberish blasphemies at first, but after you get used to the terrors they spew, you could hear them saying, "Nyarlatothep heeded thy call. Nyarlatothep heeded thy call. Nyarlatothep heeded thy call." Months have passed since. I just want to tell my lovers, that their slumber is for the betterment of all existence. The sky looks like an eternal void; devoid of life. The Black Pharaoh reigns in the cosmos. All hail Nyarlatothep.
0
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
The Cult of Nyarlatothep
The stars were bright above my head, but mind of mine was filled with dread. How could my actions have misled me to a hell like this? What laws of nature did I break? And where I made such big mistake? And how much horrors will awake and rise from black abyss? I think this all began the day I bought a house in the bay I should have listened what they say: this place was ****** for good! But it was cheap, as deadly bogs With crooked trees and stinky fogs and countless hoards of homeless dogs aren't pleasant neighborhood. I lived there quietly for a year and awful swamps located here were not at all a source of fear, but rusty house was. I had to catch the rain with bowls, the wind was welcome through the walls: They, like the roof, are full of holes, and hence my anger rose. I couldn't then afford to fix or to rebuild this house with bricks, although I feared of facing Styx if it was to collapse. I hardly ever slept at all. I heard strange noises in the wall beside my bad, like insects crawl… 'Twas just my mind, perhaps… And once I woke again at night and saw a dim and lonely light just at a border of my sight. In bayous it appeared. I quickly put my jacket on and, trying to suppress my yawn, I ran to that phenomenon. That totally was weird! As I drew near, I saw a maid. She seemed confused and quite afraid of something. 'Please, I need your aid!' she cried. 'My brother's lost!' I saw some teardrops cross her face. I was bedazzled by her grace! 'I'll save your brother from this place, I'll help, at any cost!' With that into the night I raced in an extremely thoughtless haste. And under shiny stars I faced what seemed like certain death. A horrid beast from waters rose. I noticed how the water froze In pools that were a bit too close... I couldn't take a breath! I didn't, though, become a prey. Twas quite a luck, I can't gainsay. I don't know how I found my way, but still, I reached my shack I hear the beast's spine-chilling groan. I know this building's my tombstone, If only I could've somehow known! Why can't I turn it back? Moirai will any minute cut my thread of life. I'm ready, but I want that beast crushed by this hut. Is this too much to wish? What takes that devil so **** long? Should I attract it with a gong? Hey, freak, I'm here! What is wrong? Just come and eat your dish! But then... Two monsters at my door! I started crying on the floor, I loudly cursed, blasphemed and swore... But then I raised my head: "You found my brother! Sweet of you! I hope he didn't catch the flu... We need to go now, friend! Adieu!" That's what the girl's voice said.
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 5:58 PM UTC
Swamp Light
The stars were bright above my head, but mind of mine was filled with dread. How could my actions have misled me to a hell like this? What laws of nature did I break? And where I made such big mistake? And how much horrors will awake and rise from black abyss? I think this all began the day I bought a house in the bay I should have listened what they say: this place was ****** for good! But it was cheap, as deadly bogs With crooked trees and stinky fogs and countless hoards of homeless dogs aren't pleasant neighborhood. I lived there quietly for a year and awful swamps located here were not at all a source of fear, but rusty house was. I had to catch the rain with bowls, the wind was welcome through the walls: They, like the roof, are full of holes, and hence my anger rose. I couldn't then afford to fix or to rebuild this house with bricks, although I feared of facing Styx if it was to collapse. I hardly ever slept at all. I heard strange noises in the wall beside my bad, like insects crawl… 'Twas just my mind, perhaps… And once I woke again at night and saw a dim and lonely light just at a border of my sight. In bayous it appeared. I quickly put my jacket on and, trying to suppress my yawn, I ran to that phenomenon. That totally was weird! As I drew near, I saw a maid. She seemed confused and quite afraid of something. 'Please, I need your aid!' she cried. 'My brother's lost!' I saw some teardrops cross her face. I was bedazzled by her grace! 'I'll save your brother from this place, I'll help, at any cost!' With that into the night I raced in an extremely thoughtless haste. And under shiny stars I faced what seemed like certain death. A horrid beast from waters rose. I noticed how the water froze In pools that were a bit too close... I couldn't take a breath! I didn't, though, become a prey. Twas quite a luck, I can't gainsay. I don't know how I found my way, but still, I reached my shack I hear the beast's spine-chilling groan. I know this building's my tombstone, If only I could've somehow known! Why can't I turn it back? Moirai will any minute cut my thread of life. I'm ready, but I want that beast crushed by this hut. Is this too much to wish? What takes that devil so **** long? Should I attract it with a gong? Hey, freak, I'm here! What is wrong? Just come and eat your dish! But then... Two monsters at my door! I started crying on the floor, I loudly cursed, blasphemed and swore... But then I raised my head: "You found my brother! Sweet of you! I hope he didn't catch the flu... We need to go now, friend! Adieu!" That's what the girl's voice said.
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