| As the night descends in blackness on the silent shingled shore I recall the long-dead masters of the dark forgotten lore And the things that live in shadows where the light can reach no more. In cities lost for eons in the black Pacific deeps Amid the twisted towers of their tumbled monstrous keeps He lies with awful power in his ageless dreaming sleep. I fear to watch my windows as the day becomes the night There are things that come at evening not meant for mortal sight So I latch the shutters tightly, and turn on every light. I hear them crawling softly up beyond the creeping tide And the sea breeze brings the odor of things that lately died And I look around in panic but there is no place to hide. I shudder now with loathing as I hear the Deep Ones come Their steps are dark and slimy and they leave a trail of scum And my tortured ears are pummelled by their mindless murmured hum. I have seen the sundered cities being shaken in my dreams And a strange new constellation in the pallid morning gleams And the undersea volcano gushes forth its glowing streams. I dare not look too closely at that which dreaming lies But its bold batrachian legions now slink before my eyes And I must escape the hour when the Pleiades shall rise. I have left my notes and warnings for those who care to read Of the vast and formless beings stirring where the krakens feed And I hope that just one reader will listen and take heed. The earthquakes will be starting, and the tidal waves to swell And the spreading ridge volcanoes will add their lava's hell As the sunken city rises where the sleeping dreamer dwells. We have fought against pollution and the threat of global war But things far worse than fallout are lurking off the shore And the eldritch troops of chaos will drown the earth in gore. We must bind them in the shallows and the sunken ocean deeps We must set the sign of power on the dreaming one who sleeps And back into the darkness we must send the towered keeps. We must stop our childish worries of the toxic wastes and spills We must summon up the mem'ry of our ancient magic skills We must speak the spells of binding from the hoary rock-crowned hills. We must cast the shapeless shamblers to the dark between the stars We must drive the demon Deep Ones back across the harbor bars We must banish evil Elders from the rocky hilltop scars. We cannot stop the tremors once Great Cthulhu starts to wake We must halt the awful progress for our own and mankind's sake And the unforgiving Old Ones will allow us no mistake. The foulness of the Deep Ones has spread into the room I see them crowding towards me through the fetor-laden gloom And I know that what they carry is the message of my doom. I've taken all my papers and they're hidden 'neath the floor Since I hear the dreadful scraping of their claws upon the door Louder than the crashing of the breakers on the shore. From the black abyssal trenches at the edges of the plates The Deep Ones gather thickly where the fault scarp slides and grates As they do the silent bidding of the one who dreams and waits. Their city rises slowly from the deep subduction zones Where the rocks of crust and mantle send forth their seismic groans And the minions of Great Cthulhu add their cephalopodic moans. I hope who finds the papers will read them and believe I don't think they'll find my body -- who knows how much they'll leave? I know no man can trust them, for they're ordered to deceive. The sibilant seduction of their whispers fills my head Promises of power to overcome my dread But as soon as I surrender, I know that I'll be dead. The outer door has fallen to the pressure of their paws, And the creaking of the floorboards that bend beneath their claws, Assures that I'll be victim to their grinding, gnashing jaws. I'll hide my notes and papers in a hole beneath the floor And maybe when I'm missing for a week or even more You'll find the awful warning it's destruction to ignore! 1994 Candace S. Martinez |
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| Deep Ones |
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