THEY
They shall return.
They will prevail.
Beneath the waves.
Behind the veil.
From roots of stars.
Of stones and sand.
They will arise.
Until the end.
As flying skulls.
As beast of trees.
By lethal words.
By ocean breeze.
Man cannot hide.
They feel no shame.
The ruthless death.
At soul they aim.
From walls and tombs.
From maddest dreams.
They shall return.
Then planet screams.
THE
OLD ONES
Mad Arab told us, Lovecraft warned us:
The ancient horrors still exist.
To their dreaded resurrection
demented cults are to assist.
Coming who?
Cthulhu.
Hear the heavy step.
Nyarlathotep.
The orgy goes on and on.
Dagon.
The world to their paws brought.
Azathoth.
Just imagine timeless towns,
where those monsters once have
reigned.
Now beneath the ocean's blanket
gods to stone beds are restrained.
Open Hell,
Uriel.
Strike the sense
by Lord Nodens.
Time to run,
Demon Pan.
Devil's thought,
Yog-Sothoth.
Creep and crawl,
north and south,
people fall
to Baal's Mouth.
Necronomicon's pages
reveal the knowledge of the
ages,
written by the hands of sages,
picturing the Doomsday stages.
Secret Reich
of R'Lyeh.
