by William Lumley
Dread and potent broods a Dweller
In an evil twilight space,
Formless as a daemon's shadow,
Void of members and of face.
Heeding not the shaped or human,
Past the reach of time or law--
Never may our minds conceive It
Save as clouds of fright and awe.
When It crawls malignly on us,
Lethal mists of leaden grey,
Rising vaguely in the distance,
Veil its hideous bulk away.
And Its mutterings of horror,
Foul with lore of charnel ground,
Lose themselves in troubled thunders
That from far horizons sound.