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?

 

 

 Like this poem? Then maybe you’d enjoy my book of similar short stories and poetry.