Prayer of the Old Ones - Lovecraftian Hymn
Author's Notes
I wanted to write something tonight but have a great deal of different hub topics that I plan to cover and as always I have trouble with picking a topic - that and basic lack of motivation.
So I figured rather than delve into some in-depth topic I'd try to write a poem/song - they tend to come to me a bit easier. So seeing as how much of my fiction related stuff here on hubpages is Lovecraft themed I figured I'd sort of mix that with the religion topic I cover in the rest of my hubs. This is in a similar vein to the poem The Elder City which I posted at the end of my The Graves of Mars story. So here, for all horror fans and Lovecraft enthusiasts - and people who want to convert to the religion of The Old Ones - is the Prayer of the Old Ones, a hymn to be song at dark masses which bears an eerie resemblance to exactly the sort of lyrics we'd see in a Christian hymn or hear some fundamentalist talking about the End Times say.
Prayer of the Old Ones
All hail the god of chaos
Great Azathoth our Lord
Who rests beyond no longer
Who is silent no more
He who now dwells within us
The avatar of madness
The stars they have proclaimed
Glory to He Who Shall Not Be Named
And in the city of R'lyeh
And Ardoron in the deep
The great Cthulhu ever reigns
Madness from his slumber seeps
Creeping horrors fill our dreams
From the abyss crossed on black wings
And outer darkness so complete
Our sanity can only flee
The blackened stones of elder zones
Rise to consume spirit and bone
And from beyond starlight's grasp
Come the true gods of aeons past
To put mankind back in its place
Mere servants to the elder race
In praise we lift our voices high
To undead horrors still alive
The Old Ones shall teach us things
How to murder how to scream
And revel in the lust for blood
That our ancestors once had loved
To undo the righteous work of man
And give us the one true religion
From the endless light-less void
They return and we rejoice
Open the gate, undo the locks
Welcome our lord Yog-Sothoth
Who is the living door and host
To summon the unholy gods
From black suns long ages dead
Shub-Niggurath raises her head
She birthed into the world her young
To spread the truth of the Old Ones
They are worshiped by migo and man
At black altars and rites we stand
And dance among the standing stones
To hasten the end of all the world
From unhallowed depths of time they rise
Waiting until the stars are right
To set upon this globe we hold
And take back all that they once owned
And so Lord Azathoth we pray
For chaos to birth the final day
And we your servants only seek
To be part of the madness you unleash
The will of the Old Ones now be done
Go forth and spread the news!
Pray the time of man be forgot
They will rise again soon!
