Eventually it became a regular occurrence
That creatures of the deep, the great beyond would take positions
Upon the surface of my dreams, drawn upward by the currents
That mingle base desires with rather loftier ambitions.
Upon the ends of tentacles and claws, the monsters fed me
A cavalcade of inspiration and nocturnal visions,
A sort of vague instruction urging me to be so deadly
The very veil between two worlds succumbs to my incisions.
They lashed themselves to me as if Ulysses at the mast;
They honored me by seeing that my mind was made a vessel
By which they’d enter into Earth triumphantly at last,
A bridge in which whoe’er I touched became another trestle.
In fact, I quite suspect if someone watched as I was sleeping,
They’d witness inhumanity in vibrant darkness streaming
Through rocky pores upon my mind, wherein those gods were keeping
The souls of slaughtered human lambs, still musically screaming.
Indeed, one night I woke to the peculiar sensation
Of something at my side that had stepped bodily upon
My soul, the architect and product of its own creation.
Its heavy presence lingered ‘til the harsh and cloying dawn
And in the meantime whispered unexpected affirmations,
Reminders that the work to come proceeds when I am dead,
That eagerness to serve ought not engender such impatience
As leaves nobody groomed to serve the monsters in my stead.