Yesterday a tropic wind laughed at me and said, I been down south and someone waits for you, fatal vision rendezvous 10 horizons later now make our snow camp anyhow words of warning long forgot scientific juggernaut watch me pale Antarctic eyes searching your Antarctic ice distant mountains in the sky seem enchanted cities to my eyes 90 miles Southward we sent a separate group investigate an ancient place Stop at a remote waste by peaks of crystal fire mountains of madness So they tunneled downward and found beneath the ice snow protected caverns Home of long dead creatures the fabled elder-race scientific treasure Radio reports received the story told of the specimens they found their 1st dissection notes cast the evolution theories of the day in disarray Made our plans to join their group with a haste unparalleled but an Arctic storm arose : radio silence held We waited through the day until the sky began to clear Flew above their camp but saw no movement down below what we saw when we arrived.. .a cruel crushing blow Our expedition brothers left in pieces on the snow The scene of death around could hardly be explained but even worse our fruitless search no specimens remained We all drew lots the losers left to search by aero plane So I flew the barren windswept and dead Antarctic waste into darkly cursed mountains to a truly cursed place the ruins of an alien city crumbled and misplaced This land of frozen waste supporting life seemed fantasy but wondering those ruins left me no course but belief On broken walls their story told and chronicled a race too old to measure by the modern day but I’ll describe them anyway The very first society was started not by human beings but with this great artistic race of aliens from deepest space They came before the final freeze Antarctica their colony They built a world of colour great but then began the last ice age As colder still the earth became They built an undersea somain Atlanteans the legend said It seems Atlantis is not dead

Part 1: Arrival The Yuletide season was upon New England as I walked crushing snow ‘neath the heel of my boot To the ancient city of my ancient people attending festival of ancient roots As the ocean crashed pounding on the stones separating sea from ancestral lands I beheld the city only dreamed of lately this modern son embraced Kingsport’s hand Once a hundred clans knew the ancient ways of the rites that were held once a century Now the poor and lonely of the dark tradition the last to bear responsibility To uphold the promise of the first forefather continue teaching in the ancient way So they sent me East to the misty dawn to attend the festival of Hallow Day I saw vanes and steeples, willow trees and graves where the stones were set in 1692 And the tree of legend where my kinsmen hung as convicted witches which I now know was true I walked toward the city and I listened — all was still — No Christmas season songs were sung, no candled windowsills I reasoned these were Puritans, I was not too dismayed since logic said instead of song they likely knelt and prayed I passed the dim—lit farmhouses while walking to the place that ancient custom led me to — on Green Lane #8 I must admit I thought it strange that in that fallen snow No footprints I could find or make above it or below In anxious haste I knocked Instantly it opened Deaf and dumb he motioned The Festival is soon He pointed to a table, 3 books sat waiting I chose the first one (with hesitation) I read the title (The Necronomicon) inviting me to alchemy I read with horror the incantations I closed the book and closed their demonstrations when handed cloak and hood to keep me warm from Winter’s tear The time of Festival was here! Part 2: Procession The candles killed we left the house for streets as quiet as death to join with many other cloaked and hooded marionettes And now the streets so crowded you’d expect a mighty roar but silence was the only sound (which seemed to scare me more) Down corridors on toward churchyard hill Eyes of the night cold as ice watching still Top of the spire seemed to point to a star Aldeberan seemed so near yet so far So following my voiceless guide but straying to the rear I watched the others ooze into that church of yesteryear When finally I crossed that threshold wond’rinq where they’d gone I saw the alter’d opened leading to oblivion Now weak from fear I took my place descending spiral stairs which tunneled through the very heart of Kingsport unaware Perhaps a mile maybe two into the crypt I found a world of decay as I slipped into a nightmare and on farther down Desperately seeking escape from this hideous ground Then suddenly I saw a lurid shimmering of light A river underground of oily water black as night And in the middle rose a leprous fire of greenish flame I watched them as they worshipped it in spirit and in name Part 3: Escape My subterranean vision shone, a noisome flute did drone And suddenly the sound of wings ascending from below The beasts I saw were hybrid things a madness to behold And in that fire of greenish flame I shivered from the cold My guide stepped forth to worship and fulfill the ancient game And all the rest performing rites of long forgotten name He held the Necronomicon up high for all to see As one by one each celebrant would mount a winged beast But not me — I wondered what to do Could I be a mutiny or just a long forgotten clue? My host now motioned me to choose a beast to make my flight But I resisted seeking to escape this hoary rite Blocked the stairs and grabbed me as his waxen mask did fall No human head behind it I dove into that river before the madness of my screams could bring the charnel legions down to feed on me! “The nethermost caverns are not for the fathoming of eyes that see for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, evil the mind that is held by no head. Happy the tomb where no wizard hath lain and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes “For it is of old rumors that the soul of the devil—bought haste not (from his charnel clay) but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws. ‘Till out of corruption horrid life springs and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earths pores ought to suffice And things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.”

I Back in the cold of 1928 government agents destroyed what I'd found One night in July it was I who ran for my life Followed the railway that lead out of town A narrow escape from early mortality sealed my fate Haunting what I am now What once they were ever were what I am now! The tale I must tell to restore my worn faculties Centers around a tiara like crown I saw it first hand in the Newburyport library, I had to learn more of it's source so went round And bought me a seat on a bus sternly ill-advised To travel by day to that crumbling town, That crumbling, worm-eaten, foul whispered town A seer of sights and a seeker of history a genealogical researcher bound Uncovering truth, uncovering fantasy, hidden by fear in this shadowed old town This Order of Dagon repulsed and attracted me to desolate Innsmouth decay all around A primal and fish-like decay all around II Joe Sargent he drove the bus, decrepit not one of us Head narrow, unwinking eye, peculiar, but no surprise One dollar, I watched the shore, desolation, the sun was warm Atlantic, dead stumps and walls An epidemic named Innsmouth calls Deserted and deathly still, decay and squalor did make me ill Church basement, an empty door, a priest of Dagon tiara worn He shambled under robes a bejeweled sinister form III Just happy to be happily off that bus and in a hotel Checked my bag and left my sadness strolled out on the village square A dozen slant roof buildings, streetlights small a lonely few Good thing I'll be gone by nightfall, troubling thoughts of Deja Vu Found a young trustworthy man, did not like this place at all Shared his thoughts drew me a map, warned me of the danger spots Brought me in the rumor mill, found my interest growing still, he'll tell no more but Zadok will 96 years in this town, he had seen what none go near Bring him drink to grease his tongue, stranger tales you'll never hear Took my leave and wandered forth streets alone deserted town Architecture angles wrong, attic windows shuttered down Puzzled and disturbing blight, furtive glances, secret rights Zadok Allan in my sights

IV Follow me to a deserted spot and tell me all the crazy things you thought Forgive me if I don't believe or act as if I can see through this hazy disturbed lies people say define your life Now we settle in our lonely spot and tell your story show me what you got Forgive me if I don't believe or act as if I can see through this hazy disturbed lies people say define your life V Captain Obed South sea islands, trinket trades for solid gold Where it came from, no one's asking, sacrifice their very soul Back in Innsmouth, times were trying, prayers unanswered, faith was weak Obed Marsh he brought the saviours swimming off that Devil's Reef Townsfolk start to disappearing fishing booms and gold abounds Smart folks fearing Devil dealing Obed's followers jail bound Moonlight ocean filled with creatures jailbreaking night of knives Now the town will mix with daemons worship Dagon, never die Truth be told the worst is coming sea invasion turnabout Zadok screaming death to all men, they now know I've spoken out VI Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Salt water splashes the hall floor Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Salt water splashes the hall floor No time to waste no time to fear pack my bags get outta here I bolted all adjacent doors but they have brought the 2 x 4's got to reach a window soon breaking noise disturb the gloom heading north from room to room facing death and certain doom finally found an open glass here the chasers coming fast soon I see them coming down watch the roof and check the town their on to me a search will start find a skylight clamber in darkness falls around my skin! In the dark, in the dust, I'll find a way out I trust There's a door to the street hug the shadows, move discreet Sneak away door to door, search party predators VII My map won't help this morning flight, I move out by instinct hoping I'm right I wind and roam dead streets and lanes don't dare to look back if they have gained Finally I gave in and could not resist, looking to Devil's reef shrouded in mist For what I saw haunts and attracts me still The ocean alive and daemon filled The throng did hunt for my escape, and what I learned of their townscape So now I run along a route, abandoned railway evading pursuit But still they gained, I kept my head, planned I did Jumped in the brambles and there deep I hid My head was down, made no sound there with my eyes shut tight The mob was approaching and passed me right by I had to see aware of the trajedy, fearful of madness but still I was bold The hideous swarm of bleating and froglike forms I silently screamed and fainted out cold The next day I awoke at noon somehow not insane I walked the tracks to Arkham took a bus and then a train The Boston FBI I found receptive to my tale They later raided Innsmouth took the locals off to jail Couple years passed without thought of Innsmouth or the look Then dreams began to haunt my nights, I found a dusty book of family history photographs and names of those before Some family treasures of the past and relatives no more Seems my great-great grandfather was captain Obed Marsh His wife's repulsive gold tiara now just seemed bizarre My nightly dreams of watery depths grow stronger day by day While gazing in my mirror shows the blood I cannot change I feel a strong regret and fear for actions I have done But all will be forgiven when to Innsmouth I return And swim out to that Devil's Reef, and dive the black abyss to join my deep ones dwelling in eternal ocean bliss...