CthulhuPeople
Lord of Altera
We cannot see who leads us into the sea. Visions of the cosmos filter through our minds like slugs in salt, writhing around, screeching out their dying calls to the deep. My daughter is near me, I can feel it. She cries for her mommy, but I cannot answer. What kind of a mother am I to ignore her cries? To block them from reaching my ears?
Drip, Drop, we all plummet into a shallow tunnel and our eyes are opened. We see the euclidean landscapes and gothic towers that ascend into the lunar ceiling; we hear the slishing and sloshing of the slimy beasts that watch us pass through the hall. Our legs move at their own volition and our mouths scream out an unholy gospel to Him.
Praise be to Him, for he will open our eyes.
Drip, Drop, we all plummet into a shallow tunnel and our eyes are opened. We see the euclidean landscapes and gothic towers that ascend into the lunar ceiling; we hear the slishing and sloshing of the slimy beasts that watch us pass through the hall. Our legs move at their own volition and our mouths scream out an unholy gospel to Him.
Praise be to Him, for he will open our eyes.
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