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Unforeseen, A Poem about Eldritch Dreams
By Melanpiriks Posted in Blog on November 1, 2022 0 Comments 2 min read
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Happy Halloween! I don’t really celebrate but since I was writing something about just… Eldritch vibes, really, why not publish that today? Originally this was (yet another) attempt of mine to write a song of sorts… I’m sure one can sing this if one wants but maybe it’s better to ignore that part and just enjoy the poem.

Crawling, gnawing, warping dread
Keep the infinite masters fed
All life eventually goes stale
But what if eternal is not dead

Comprehension of the sane is the first
Pay to the outer bane, existence’s cursed
Paranoia robbing sleep

Strange feelings creeping up, filling view’s blind spots
Sanity and the beyond are not aligned
Begging for the brain rots declined
And behold, the blessed rider’s name

Cry for mercy while you can
Before the promised fall of man

Eldritch flair connects us all, too vast to grasp
Eerie minds call to us, at last a gasp
Hear their taste in the howls (Corrupting)
See their stench in the walls (Collapsing)
Be their tool in this sphere (Complying)
They care little for this old-grown joke
Thank on your deathbed if you never woke!

Reality is only a circle, wheeling around the fool
Meaning none in front of those unspoken
Kneeling for rest before the final rule awoken

And so the maggots squirm for purpose
Squeaking for a life eventually void
On this vast yet small surface toyed

Eldritch dreams connects us all, too vast to grasp
Eerie visions call to us, at last a gasp
Taste their sound in the soil (Corrupting)
Smell their image in the air (Collapsing)
Be their tool in this sphere (Complying)
They care little for this old-grown joke
Thank on your deathbed if you never woke!

When all parts of our known plane are in disarray
When one hears the sickening sweet tunes of Zann
Then the quest is not about what to do but where to stay
Then there is no deny, the end has come

Eldritch arrival subsides us all, too vast to grasp (Containing)
Eerie horror overwhelms us, at last a gasp(?) (Commencing)
Senses too little to fathom (Contending)
The Unknown cares little for this old-grown joke (Completing)
Thank on your deathbed you barely awoke!

#eldritch #poetry


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