Nyarlathotep

Throngs of men
plodding through the night
Whispers
on an ill wind

The showman comes
leaving nothing unchanged

Bound in one direction
(Black as night)
I join

The sorrow of the search
pulls us in
This ancient Pharaoh
This (Crimson?) King
Leads us on
into unutterable darkness

If we follow
From where will our hope, if ever, arise?

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One Response to Nyarlathotep

  1. Poets Rally says:

    excellent expression.

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