Shoggoth on th* Roof. (via M*tafilt*r)


Halcyon thrown among dull days
A glowing throng;
And find only promising nothing stays.
Is this my song?
Is this my scrimshaw ball a world
To lull a bard, if any would?

Blindly thrown among dull swords
And bloody whirlpools'
Logical golf, this crown of suds
In hazard spills.
An idol glooming far away,
Vagabond gondola don’t know why.