New one today. Let me know what you think.
(Spoof of Nemesis by HP Lovecraft)
Thro’ the spell warded shell of my sepulcher,
Past the aeons so long past my sight,
I have liv’d o’er my lives without number,
I have tested this prison against my might;
And I struggle and rage ere these chains break, being driven to rage from respite.
I have seen the rise of untold empires,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark depths of arcana,
Mastered the untold forces I claim;
Where they roll in the horror unleashed, by those fools who invoke my name.
I had thrown off the shackles of humanity,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies
The result is I now bring calamity,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the cries of the pitiful mages as my magic rains down from the skies.
I have plundered the secrets of Shurima
Of the knowledge of ages gone past,
Where the magics that twisted at last broke
And sundered my flesh from my bone;
And I feel neither pain nor sympathy when the command of my power is shown.
I have seen the limit of mortality
That short and abrupt ending ride,
I have tasted the edges of finality
when they trapped me and locked me inside;
And I raged and I fought ‘gainst their binding, the countless aeons taking my side.
I have laid waste to those who confined me,
By the force of my gift they all fall
I have trod in the dust of their corpses
I have painted their blood on the wall;
Strange symbols discordantly woven, a name that the wise fear to call.
I have peer’d at the heart of the world
At the unfathomed depths of this earth,
The energies there are disturbing and gnarled
from them your puny magics take birth;
And of those primeval forces I need but a burst .
I have haunted this tomb through the ages,
I have known the unnameable fear
Where the wrath of a Magus rages,
Where the lightning cracks blue and cracks clear:
And in realms where this son of the desert longs for what once it held dear.
I was old when the League was erected
The summoner’s magics amused me;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was supreme;
And they, yet unknowing and foolish, dwelt ignorant on the arcane’s true power.
Oh, great was the scope of my vision,
And great is the reach of its doom;
Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it,
Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
Remember, mage if by chance we meet: It will take only a spark of my magic to end you