The Messenger

November 11, 2016

hood-and-candles

The thing, he said, would come that night at three
From the old churchyard on the hill below;
But crouching by an oak fire’s wholesome glow,
I tried to tell myself it could not be.
Surely , I mused, it was a pleasantry
Devised by one who did not truly know
The Elder sign, bequeathed from long ago,
That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.
He had not meant it – no – but still I lit
Another lamp as starry Leo climbed
Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
Three – and the firelight faded bit by bit.
Then at the door that cautious rattling came –
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!

H P Lovecraft

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