Acta est fabula
Crude. unlovely
peals of laughter
shake the timbers
of my soul.
Cruel, inhuman
voices stutter
in unclean timbres
debasing and cold.
Mindless, wander
as covetous djinni
render my spirit
a thousand fold.
Mocking, virile
tones archaic
delivered dirge-like
my story is told.
A bit Lovecraftian in tone, perhaps penned within the stygian morass of some poor Miskatonic scholar's mind. More to come....
Could be Ludwig Prinn or Friedrich Wilheim Von Junzt...
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