As the sun sets and the moon is risen, a sense of dread is blown on the horizon
Timeless blasphemies lurk in obscured places
Amongst ancient ruins, under shrouds of nocturn, hooded figures gather to perform unholy sacraments
"Ea! Ea! Nyarlathotep!"
The sun will die heralding an aeon of obscurity
"Ea! Ea! Nyarlathotep!"
In pestilent dreams his spectre is vicinal
Between realities I slip...
Here, the vile pounding of distant drums and the dissonance of tuneless flutes resound