Folk cackle at me, for holding my ears
And telling all bards to cease their music
For since the flute came to me, I fell sick
Now all sounds bear echo from other spheres
That grows louder when Polaris appears
And the nethermost Void works it's magic
Those nights, I scream in my run-down attic
And desperately try to shirk my fears
When the dreams came, I truly went insane
For I learned whence the flute had come to me
And knew I would soon die in utter fright
My soul to be dragged into His domain
Where horrid flutists play with profane glee
For such is Azathoth's aeonic might
"A CTHULHU ANTHOLOGY"
This project will provide you a canvas to immortalize your experiences in an e-book anthology, a collaborative collection of our own calls from Cthulhu. You can tell a story from your favorite campaign, write some fan fiction, share a poem, submit a picture of your art, or even transcribe the words that Cthulhu himself told you in your feverish dreams.
At the end of the book, each participant will be able to share a biography. The hope is to create a Lovecraftian type of correspondence between fantasy horror artists.
WHY I’M DOING THIS
One Halloween while I was living in Hawaii, I was lucky enough to get invited