Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Carcosan Idyll

By the misty lake of Hali
evening rises with a murmur
as from subterranean chambers
where a figure chanting softly
paces, holding high a pallid
mask above his robe of yellow.
Motionless, the watchers follow
with their eyes alone, while gelid
drops of sweat run down their faces,
icy rivulets. No color,
not a mask! A swoon of horror
steals away the courtier's voices.

Gladness fled from dim Carcosa
in the distant long-lost ages
ere the moon's new-risen rictus
mocked their fears and gave no answer.
Empty is Carcosa's throneroom,
pallid shadows call it home.

PS: If you happen to be in Portland this week, do check out the Lovecraft Film Festival going on this weekend.

for Cafe Writing drop, evenings, glad, mist, motionless, murmur, pallid, rivulets, swoon

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


Formless said...

Ia Hastur!
Ia Hastur!
Ia Hast



MissMeliss said...

Oh, brilliant. So moody.