Yog-Sothoth: The All-In-One

Cthulhu Mythos

Dwelling in the interstices between planes,

Composing the Universe.

Manifestation as a conglomeration,

Globes shifting, flowing into another.


Deity of Sorcerers and Wizards,

Granting them great power

To travel between the planes

To see into a plane through crystal globes.


Commanding various monsters

From distant worlds...

Gifts in return,

Opening the way

For Yog-Sothoth

To travel from His domain.


Tawil at'Umr;

Wishing to travel to distant places.

Being the least malignant

Him unveiled

Causes great sacrifice.


Utterly mad,

Destruction on its path.

The Cult of Ne-Pang

Is a Yog-Sothoth Cult.

Order of the Silver Twilight

The Temphill Cult

Claim this name too.


Power to travel within the planes,

Reaching any other time or space.

He is the Key and the Gate.

Opener of the Way,

Wishing to enter this plane.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the Cthulhu Mythos Deity Yog-Sothoth.

Abdul Alhazred


Alhazred was born in Yemen,
Traveling in the known world;
Amassing lore and legend,
And the tales of the fiends.


A writer and a poet,
He was educated much.
Geometry, algebra, Alchemy
And magickal incantations' need.


From the cup of occult knowledge
He drank deep...
Driving a normal person
To madness or beyond.


Alhazred was once a normal man,
With desires like we all can.
He was Arab by birth,
With a pale skin in rebirth.
Being labeled the mad,
As he was once a dad.
But had to eat his child,
By the King of the Palace's might.


He wrote down the Necronomicon,
In more than one song...
The obscure, the forgotten,
The suppressed, the rotten.
Never meant to be read;
It causes insanity with speed.
Not interpreted rationally,
The thoughts cause a rally.


Alhazred was insane,
By the lore he learned within.
But he wrote clear,
With many a tear.


The state of the Universe,
In reality suspense;
Plaything of mad gods at best,
Sewer of evil in the north, south, east, west.


Humans dare not dream of this,
For their peaceful lives they cannot miss.
A warning and guide this book is,
And by the Djinns you do wish.


Alhazred died, not a mystery,
It is written in history.
In the marketplace,
He was erased.
By the Demon from beyond,
Who wanted him gone.
Blood upon the sand,
There he was banned.
In broad daylight,
With many a sight.


He meddled with evil things,
With beings with wings.
He is now dead,
After he bled...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the Mad Poet.

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City of Dreams

Light and Dark

Welcome to the City of Dreams

All full of nightmares, daydreams, and schemes

Whatever you dream; it’s a wonderful theme

Whenever you want; you’re always the king


Lie down and sleep your pain away

Forget your past, forget the day

Here the only toil is play

It’s easy to come here, there’s many a way


Become the hero you wanted to be

Without actually being what you see

In this world only, can you be free

Stay with us, is our only plea


Be rich, be naughty

Be powerful, be haughty

Live in this dream, decaying body

No one will care if you’re a bit dotty


It’ll be too late, when you finally know

You’re not in control; was only a show

So just sit back, and go with the flow

While we take you to an all-time low


Down the rabbit hole

                Into the earth

                       Shadows will blind you

                                Now what was this worth?

                                                           Life is so fleeting

                                                                  Death is now eating

                                                                                    Living and dying

                                                                                             Laughing while crying



Fall into madness

    Can’t tell the difference

Between night and day

               Between real and fake

Between right and wrong

                       Between sky and cake

There is no difference

                                       Only existence

Nothing to do



But dream




The City of Dreams…


Welcome to The City of Dreams…”

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Words of cold hope, found at an abandoned camp


No one knows what infected the world; no one came to true understanding. Some said it was the eclipse, darkening the earth, breaking down an invisible wall of protection that kept us safe from the dangers of the universe, others claimed it to be a biological weapon; made by the hands of man, created to thin an overcrowded population, or perhaps a weapon of war that was never meant to see the outside world. Whatever the theory, whatever the claim; before we even knew what was happening, death had blown her cold kiss over every nation, every state, every part of the world, and there was nothing to stop it. Every effort failed. All of man's ability was not enough. The world had never felt such punishment before or likely will again. In the grip of this we are still; waiting and hoping; living each day with faith we will see the day after. In our faith we are still seeking the path to salvation.

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Visions Of The Elders

Then the clouds gave way, and the sky peeled back;
like the scroll that opens to reveal long forgotten knowledge,
the face of the end of worlds appeared before the inhabitants of the earth,
and nations trembled, and powers fell;
and the rulers of men were delivered into madness.
The offspring of man were fed to the fallen.

The Descent Into Madness

The Descent into Madness
Blackened eyes mutter to themselves
A silent man cackles to himself
Mindlessly chanting a rant of raving
Gradually losing all sanity because of the loving
That was never to be
His cries are echoed
His moans are full of sorrow
His whispers are then followed
As he plummets into the descent
The descent into madness

Nevermore shall he see
Nevermore shall he listen
Nevermore shall he hear
Nevermore shall he care
But evermore shall he fall
Into the descent of madness

Tired eyes whisper to the lies
A sleepless man moans to himself
Hopelessly craving and mournfully crying
Gradually losing all sanity because of the happiness
That was never to be
His chants are echoed
His cackles are filled with sorrow
His mutters are then followed
As he plummets into the descent
The descent into madness

Nevermore shall he go by
Nevermore shall he try
Nevermore shall he be happy
Nevermore shall he be loved
But evermore shall he fall
Into the descent of madness

Broken eyes chatter to themselves
A crazed man sits by himself
Sinisterly plotting a scheme of killing
Gradually losing all his sanity because of the life
That was never to be
His plots are echoed
His seat is filled with sorrow
His chattering then follows
As he plummets into the descent
The descent into madness

Nevermore shall he be taunted
Nevermore shall he be parted
Nevermore shall he suffer treachery
Nevermore shall he have to worry
Because off ward he goes
With gun in his hand
To seek his revenge
On the ones who pushed him
Deep down into a descent
A descent into madness

Author's Notes/Comments: 

©Travis Whitacre Sun 12/4/2011 10:59 PM

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Hello this is your soul calling


Sitting in his favorite chair
gazing through the window
he says no words
he shows no life
alone his his favorite rubber room
while his consciousness tries to
call through
from the other side
no one answers
no one is home
it calls and calls again
while he sits in his favorite rubber room.

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