It Awakens

Insanity. Strange, isn't it? One day you see beauty, and the next you can only see despair and horror. But, is reality much different? Is everyday wonderful or a shattered mess of dismay?

I have written this piece of poetry as a dedication to H.P Lovecraft's amazing works.

Insanity, an alert mind,

To every breath and flinch does bind,

A purpose that without give nor fail,

Links to your soul like iron bent mail,

So where and when does duty lie,

If worlds collide and the soul should die,

Does it wander lost like the desert sands?

Or tremble and falter like bloodied hands?

I cannot tell you of the searing sorrows,

Upon the visage of things in Earth's dead hollows,

They contort and twist, such sane breaking sights,

Or fall from far space in a corruption of lights,

A broken mind, a savaged heart, a blackened soul that bears no part,

In the coming, the ending, humanities dreams,

Laid to rest on a bed of screams,

The Dread Lord of Old rises up from the deep,

From aeons and aeons of motionless sleep,

And as the human race falls, our end so nigh,

Death's final embrace, retreats with a sigh,

The candle of reckoning blazes hard against strife,

As Humanity pays its penance, penance in life.