Into the cold above he gazes,
Watching with a mournful eye
Where the fearful star of G’NURREMAHD blazes.
Through the centuries uncounted
The mighty orb has seethed and roiled
All whilst a sense of doom has mounted.
For all pervasive is its yellow glare;
And even in the night, the far horizon glimmers
With dismal rays a-dancing there.
The Watcher shivers in the chill
Of the Autumn starwind crying across
The crest of Charnel Hill
Carefully he burns his lamp
For the warmth, rather than the light–
And in the desert makes his camp.
O, vengeful Abbott of the Abyss!
Wherefore display this cosmic spectacle
If only to shatter unto nothingness?