Creative ObligationI must create.More Like This
Raise myself into the depths of hearts,
but I am so tired.
My legs can't jump
and my thoughts won't carry me further.
I can only move slowly in my sleep,
but time falls down ever so steadily.
The sand grains become mountains
and my dreams won't carry me further.
I am so tired,
but I need to quicken my pace
for I can only be creative until I'm surrounded by my desert.
Ye Mouths of Mortals (Folk Hymn)Scream on, ye mouths of mortals,More Like This
Leave silence to the past;
Thy sphere is but a mote; the void about it is so vast!
Scream on, but be not hopeful
An audient ear to reach:
They be not friends who apprehend the echo of thy speech.
Sing out, ye mouths of mortals,
Make merry while ye can;
Who knows but that this setting sun bespeaks the end of man?
Sing out, and do not listen
When ye hear thy voice resound,
Or ye may hear that something queer is mingled in the sound.
Be hushed, ye mouths of mortals,
Quit ye thy gibbering froth,
Lest ye dispel the Cosmos—fleeting dream of Azathoth!
Be hushed, in voice and thinking,
Close up both mouth and mind;
Well should ye quake to silence break—thy gods will not be kind.