Smooth & black to spite the sky.
This moon. This empty nighted moon;
It's light, a cold and pleasing boon.
Such a gift he kindly gave
With no expectation due.
His tendrils reaching from His grave,
Damp with evening's oozy dew.
Barred windows casting silhouettes.
My mind too weak to bend them yet
His voice bids me sit, and stay a while,
Sweet words through broad and lipless smile.
"You wait. The stars will soon be right,
And I will break your spirit free,
To hunt your prey through blissful night,
A blackened, loyal hound for me."
The rousing scent, the earth's blood boils,
Hands pull me through it's stale soil,
And help me cross it's russet pools
To find my bread in a hive of fools,
All naive to His dreadful will;
The glory waiting to be found
Beneath the mud, the shadowed hill,
Where he sleeps in cool and lifeless ground.
Read my other Lovecraft inspired poetry by clicking on THIS LINK
Follow me on Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/AdamWhitePoet