Saturday, October 31, 2009


Night Gaunts by H.P. Lovecraft

Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell,

But every night I see the rubbery things,

Black, horned and slender, with membranous wings,

They come in legions on the north wind's swell

With obscene clutch that titillates and stings,

Snatching me off on monstrous voyagings

To grey worlds hidden deep in nightmare's well.

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