Blogging Poetry

Oubliette Soul

An evil beyond The Black Reach.

An ancient thing stirred

deep in The Black Reach.

To blackness it lured

some meat for the Feast.

Obsidian throne,

the Beast slept alone.

Its Oubliette Soul,

forgotten, unknown.

Yawning hunger spewed

in a timeless scream,

whilst its old evil grew,

in an endless dream.

A twitch in the Void,

some touch of the web,

awakened the Beast

again to be fed.

© CGT, 2017.

I have Lovecraft on my mind.

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