Eldritch Maunderings

Wandering up and down the hall,
I listen for the midnight call
Of silken-shrouded ancient Things
Which soar on lofty ebon wings...

500 million years ago
I wrote those cryptic words
While a prisoner of the Great Race:
The Yith, mind-travelers in Time,
Gatherers of all knowledge,
Seeking to escape their Doom...

Now my brain sits in a canister,
At the whim of those goddamned Fungi
From Yuggoth, obscenely whispering
Mi-Go...may the Polyps gnaw them!