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Aug 2017
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.
Just keeping the spirit of H.P. Lovecraft alive. I hope he won't get mad at my work.
Emmanuel
Written by
Emmanuel  22/M/PH
(22/M/PH)   
  364
   kyle
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