The Greatest of Mad Things

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 10, 2018

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Submitted: May 10, 2018

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Deep in the pits of the darkest seas
Feasts the Beast That Speaks In Dreams.
Its blood runs black with ink-bled schemes 
And tendrils akin to polluted streams. 

Below, in silence, where oldest trees stood
There rots the Heart of the Nameless Wood.
It pulses and beats as nothing sane should
And scoffs such ideals as evil and good. 

Beneath the desert of lost, black sand
Crawls the Maw With Ten Thousand Hands.
It remembers before men knew how to stand 
And drools each day they enter its land. 

Beyond the stars and any sane place
There slumbers the Hunger Unknown of a Face.
Its size and mind fits no known space 
With stirrings blamed for open mad gates. 

So why would I tell you of such bleak degrees 
Of nightmarish things and beasts of ill ease? 
Though strange, I assure it's clear as the breeze: 
The Madness of Men prove madder than these.


© Copyright 2020 M. A. Yacone. All rights reserved.

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