A gleaming glassy ocean Under a sky of grey; A tide that dreams of motion, Or moves, as the dead may; A bird that dips and wavers Over lone waters round, Then with a cry that quavers Is gone—a spectral… Read More ›
poems
“Night-Gaunts” by H. P. Lovecraft
Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell, But every night I see the rubbery things, Black, horned, and slender, with membranous wings, They come in legions on the north wind’s swell With obscene clutch that titillates and stings,… Read More ›
Each Night Father Fills Me with Dread…
Each night father fills me with dread As he sits at the foot of my bed I don’t mind that he speaks In gibbers and squeaks But for seventeen years he’s been dead. – Edward Gorey Related Posts: – The Gashlycrumb… Read More ›
The Year of Halloween 