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May 12, 2024, 08:31:35 PM

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Shoutbox

Zakarah:
2023 Dec 29 21:06:51
I think Rashka.exe has stopped working.
Rashka:
2023 Dec 28 20:49:43
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... A.
Realyn/Eliff:
2023 Jul 22 22:17:06
Such shouty people in here, gosh.
Rashka:
2023 Jul 20 01:42:16
Remember to shout your lungs out every once in a while!!
Kozgugore:
2023 Jul 08 17:30:53
Shouting here to make sure everyone knows that I'm still here!
Ootah:
2022 Jan 24 23:27:52
Wow I can't believe I remembered my password!
Razaron:
2021 Dec 18 15:37:28
<dances>
Vraxxar:
2021 Nov 10 12:24:52
Remember to check both ways before crossing the plains!
Vraxxar:
2021 May 22 14:10:40
I too am testing the shoutbox for non-nefarious reasons.
Kozgugore:
2021 May 22 13:55:49
This is me testing the shoutbox, because shouting is a great stress relief and it would be a shame if it doesn't work.
Rashka:
2021 Mar 25 03:38:20
IM SHOUTING SO HARD RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS.
Claws:
2020 Nov 20 00:14:09
Ice cream for all
Realyn/Eliff:
2020 Oct 09 09:49:55
Happy Anniversary!!! It's party timeeee!
Vraxxar:
2020 Sep 24 12:39:42
Oh god. The warlock found the shoutbox!
Gashuk:
2020 Sep 23 16:42:21
THE SHOUTBOX. Omg. This was like proto-Discord.
Vraxxar:
2020 Aug 23 09:36:02
*Grabs a camera to record what happens*
Nakobu:
2020 Aug 22 16:24:43
*prods shoutbox*
Razaron:
2020 Jun 16 10:34:12
<dances>
Vraxxar:
2020 Jun 05 13:32:27
Swedish Pagans?
Kozgugore:
2020 Jun 01 09:45:09
You're invoking the wrong gods in this place!

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Tomb of the Ages 

Written by Sadok November 13, 2015, 08:24:00 PM


Tomb of the Ages



Uulwi iris halvahs gag er'ongg w'ssh.


Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, 

   Past the wan-mooned abysses of night, 

I have lived o'er my lives without number, 

   I have sounded all things with my sight; 

And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.


I have whirled with the earth at the dawning, 

   When the sky was a vaporous flame; 

I have seen the great dark beyond yawning 

   Where the black planets roll without aim, 

Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.


I had drifted o'er seas without ending, 

   Under sinister grey-clouded skies, 

That the many-forked lightning is rending, 

   That resound with hysterical cries; 

With the moans of invisible daemons, that out of the green waters rise.


I have plunged like a deer through the arches 

   Of the hoary primordial grove, 

Where the oaks feel the presence that marches, 

   And stalks on where no spirit dares rove, 

And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers through dead branches above.


I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains 

   That rise barren and bleak from the plain, 

I have drunk of the fog-foetid fountains 

   That ooze down to the marsh and the main; 

And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things, I care not to gaze on again.


I have scanned the vast ivy-clad palace, 

   I have trod its untenanted hall, 

Where the moon rising up from the valleys 

   Shows the tapestried things on the wall; 

Strange figures discordantly woven, that I cannot endure to recall.


I have peered from the casements in wonder 

   At the mouldering meadows around, 

At the many-roofed village laid under 

   The curse of a grave-girdled ground; 

And from rows of white urn-carven marble, I listen intently for sound.


I have haunted the tombs of the ages, 

   I have flown on the pinions of fear, 

Where the smoke-belching netherworld rages; 

   Where the jöklar loom snow-clad and drear: 

And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.


I was old when the pharaohs first mounted 

   The jewel-decked throne by Vir’naal; 

I was old in those epochs uncounted 

   When I, and I only, was vile; 

And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far frozen isle.


Oh, great was the sin of my spirit, 

   And great is the reach of its doom; 

Not the pity of heavens can cheer it, 

   Nor can respite be found in the tomb: 

Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom.


Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, 

   Past the wan-mooned abysses of night, 

I have lived o'er my lives without number, 

   I have sounded all things with my sight; 

And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.


H.P. Lovecraft, "Nemesis" [partially adapted]

About the author

Sadok registered at Orcs of the Red Blade on March 25, 2011, 09:39:09 PM and has posted 1358 posts in the boards since then. Last visit was April 02, 2024, 10:42:06 AM.