CRYPTIC SHARDS:

Litanies of the Old Ones

EDITED by ALLEN MACKEY

That is not dead which can eternal lie,

And with strange aeons even death may die.

--Abdul Alhazred, The Necronomicon

Table Of Contents:

[COVER]

Poss. SYMBOL (OF SOME TYPE)

Note: by The Editor

Preface: A Few Words

by Staff Writer

Introduction: "Some Spells For Your Grimoires!"

by Allen Mackey

Cryptic Shards Of Elder Sorcery: [This section contains the verses.]

by various anonymous poets from ALLPOETRY.

Epilogue: [Scarlet] Rituals of the Great Old Ones

by Allen Mackey
The End

Note: This volume is called CRYPTIC SHARDS: LITANIES OF THE

OLD ONES (it was tentatively called something else until the project
burst forth into final stages of completion.

Preface: A Few Words

The sampling of functional Cthulhu Mythos prayers and rites that is
now laid bare in front of you--like a piece of rank meat at the end of a
fork and going into your mouth, which is literally what WSB meant by
"Naked Lunch." A few of these lesser-known works have been
borrowed from an Elder Grimoire here and there. Some of the poetic
verses (or SPELLS) included herein have been found online at the
digital Poetry archive at Allpoetry.com. Others have never been seen
before. I dare say ALL of them belong in ONE of the Cthulhu Mythos
Tomes! And if you are a practitioner of Lovecraftian Occult Rituals of
any type, you will understand why I have decided to put together this
slim collection ... This is part of the BLASPHEMY MADE FLESH, the
bringing forth into physical reality YET another Elder Grimoire based
on Lovecraftian Magick.

--Staff Writer, November 2017

Introduction: "Some Spells For Your

Grimoires!"
Hello, fellow Lovecraftians. Maybe you are also drawn to the Occult
and you always find Pseudofactual Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos--you
know, all the written chapters and what-not of none-extant tomes.
Many authors have tackled the irresistable--and nearly impossible--
task of adding a tale or poem or book or something--to the Elder
Library (EL). The EL is the ever-expanding archive of Lovecraftian
occult works. For an "Invisible Library" it certainly has revealed
many shadowy glimpses of itself, showing us some of the secrets of
the Elder Lore.

So what do we have here?

A (functional) fragment of a genuine Cthulhu Mythos Tome!

For your practical or theoretical usage I present some spells for

your grimoires, more authentic shards of Lovecraftian Magick!

Sirius--seriously ...

Here we have a slim volume of Ritualistic Verses from the Cthulhu

Mythos which have been shamelessy collected from the free online
poetry resource, Allpoetry. Sadly: Almost everybody from Allpoetry
that is collected here is featured under a pseudonym; to this day I
unfortunately do not know who any of the "real" authors are, so I
cannot give proper credit.

So here goes--!

Cryptic Shards of Elder Sorcery, indeed! Know thyself.

Truly they are some of the Litanies Of The Old Ones--incantatory

poems. Collectively: They are also known as the Scarlet Rituals of
the Great Old Ones, so by either name may YOU find what you are
looking for.

Editor, Allen Mackey

Cryptic Shards of Elder Sorcery

1. A Prayer To Zathog by Allen Mackey

2. Abuhuiel by Zoth Ommog

3. Bazaliel by Zoth Ommog

4. The Black Goat Of The Woods by Mad Poet

5. The Black Mass Of Azathoth by Yidhra

6. The Black Tablets Of R'lyeh by Mad Poet

7. Bone-Totem by Yidhra

8. Call Forth The Old Ones by Mad Poet

9. The Call Of The Cold Wind by Yidhra

10. Chant Of The End And Of The Destroyer by Ulthar

11. Chant To Summon Winged Gaunts by Thoth-Amon

12. Commitment To Nyarlathotep by Mad Poet

13. Compassionate Love by Yidhra

14. Cthulhu R'lyeh by Mad Poet

15. Dark Star by Mad Poet

16. The Doom Chant Of Than-Kul by Robert E. Howard

17. The Exaltation Of Prometheus--Invocation by Ulthar

18. Fangs Of Yig by Allen Mackey

19. The Hymn To Black Zathog by Allen Mackey

20. Hymn To The Wandering Mother by Ulthar

21. Invocation Of Cthulhu by Yidhra

22. Islia by Zoth Ommog

23. Knowledge by Zoth Ommog

24. Kutulu by Lady Mieke

 25. L'air Epais: The Ceremony Of Stifling Air by Ryan Turgeon

26. The Litany To Atlach-Nacha by Allen Mackey

27. The Litany To Dagon by Yidhra

28. The Litany To Zathog by Allen Mackey

29. N'gaii Fhtagn E'hucunechh R'lyeh by Randolph BlackKnight

30. Pact With Nyarlathotep by Yidhra

31. Per Adonei Eloim by Mad Poet

32. The Power Of Healing by Yidhra

33. Prayer To Nyarlathotep by Zoth Ommog

34. Prayer To The Old Ones by Yidhra

35. The Prophecy Of Nyarlathotep by Zoth Ommog

36. The Protective Circle by Yidhra

37. The Proverbs Of Azathoth by Sicky666x

38. Purification by Yidhra

39. Rite Of Cthulhu by Miss Necrosica

40. Rite Of Nyarlathotep by Zoth Ommog

41. Spirits by Mad Poet

42. Temple Of Nyarlathotep by Mad Poet

43. Thelema by Zoth Ommog

44. Xastur by Yidhra

Cryptic Shards of Elder Sorcery

 A Prayer To Zathog
Note: Here we have a brief work of incantatory verse, indeed, a
prayer to one of the lesser-known of the Great Old Ones: Zathog.
Following clues based upon the fiction of Richard L. Tierney, I have
composed this poem in loving respect and honor to one of my early
literary mentors (via correspondence). RLT, this one's for you!

A Prayer to Zathog

I! I! Zathog fhtagn Xentilx! Zarr!

I! I! Zathog! K'ruhn ror-or-sun!

Zh'uhh'h, kar'sas reh-tuh lll! Zarr!

Zathog fhtagn! Ai, ai, ai, ai!

COMMENTARY: I wrote this poem in tribute to Richard L. Tierney's

Great Old One, Zathog. In particular, because I have been trying to
track down one rare Lovecraftian poem by Tierney (or RLT), "The
Prayer of Zathog" from the Collected Poems book by RLT--which had
only been printed once in 1981 in a hardcover edtion by Arkham
House. Anyway, I do not have that poem by RLT and this is my idea
of what it might be like. Who knows? If any of you erudite readers
out there have a copy of said RLT verse, please send a copy of it my
way!
[November 2017]

Abuhuiel
Abuhuiel;

being reborn again.

Abuhuiel;

cure my sickness...

Bring me back my psychics,

abilities of old.

If I might forget,

let me remember once more.

Rather a magic word than an entity.

Bazaliel
Bazaliel;

bring me good luck.

Bazaliel;

bring me good fortune.

Put me in the right place.

Put me in the right time.

And fulfill my every wish!

Bazaliel is an ancient word (or incantation), but not an entity.

 The Black Goat Of The Woods
Rituals and spells,

Shub-Niggurath from the Hells.

Enormous cloudy mass,

Boils and festers.

Ropy black tentacles;

Ending in black hooves

When She Arrives

Her Dark Young are present.

IA! IA! Shub-Niggurath!

2017

The Black Mass Of Azathoth

Mighty protection of Bug-Shaggog,

Enduring Hatred Implacable

Lord Protector of the Chaos Stone

By decree of the Daemon-Sultan.

I, Yidhra, Prophet of the Old Ones,

Seal the power of the Black Mass

Of sacred and profane magic

The impious, the idolater.

False and unworthy to plunder and despoil,

Here I set the Sigil of the Grim Sentinel

Of Ild-Ryn, Bug-Shaggog, False One,

Know it and fear the executioner.

Great distress come to pass,

Call forth He Who Creates Without Cause

Or Reason by idle thought

And breath within the Black Mass.

Spurting tortures; O God of Chaos,

Heed what I, Yidhra, blessed

To Lord Zhothaqquah,

Taken from the twenty-third scroll.

I am a True and Faithful Seeker,

Mindful of error and the dire lesson

Parable of the Nine Who Unwisely Dared,

To wrathful bolts of the Daemon-Sultan.

Darkness spread its wings,

Hour of the Lost Day

Moon of wrath's realm

In the month of Ehlhaar.

Hight night of the Moon

Of red Sulmanopses

In the month of Sylph,

Bring together Thy acolytes.

Numbering nine,

In stone walls

Far from common men

With the Nailing Brands of Sthal.

Conceal their faces

By the Six-Horned mask

Of Black Ulsathuis

Bearing the Repelling Sign

Of blessed Zylac for this rite.

At no time shalt Thou speak

The true Divine Name of the Ultimate Source

All Miscreation and Abomination.

"O Formless Chaos, I, Yidhra,

Prophet of the Old Ones,

Call out for Thy compliant aid,

O Immense Corruption of All

Causes and Ways.

Root and essence of all in their sway,

Hear my hushed voice of the law,

And come to me from the world beyond

As in a rushing wind.

O Chaos-Sultan, know my power

By the Nails of Sthal.

O Chaos Forever-Almighty,

Great in Thy darkness-keep.

Over Abyssal crack and nether sea;

Over green woods and burning orbs;

Over weeping clouds and the song of ravens,

And mounds hard with blood-hate,

And enchanted waters, and hay,

And ash, and bone; or chambers set low

Scorn and hate; or the wandering fates

And the balance between fortunes, creeping cold,

Finding Thy hidden nether heart.

Core of All, I, Yidhra,

Speaker of the Old Ones,

Pour apple nectar, and honey,

And Red Worm seed, and oils rich

And the blood of bull and lamb,

And the warm blood of the heart

All offered, for your thirst.

O Chaos Blind and Needful,

Heed my words unsheathed

And appear in this realm of my distress.

O Fulmination-Supreme,

Make swift journey to all forces.

O Great Daemon-Lord, come to rest,

Make them withering to ash and dust.

Come as I bid in a whisper

As damning as Doom's roar,

O Cataclysm, Come Chaos--cry havoc;

For battle and blood and souls.

Bleed the powers set against me

With talons honed by my judgment.

Come rend, and shred, and mow,

As do blight and plague,

Leaving but barren space for the worm.

Core of All, Azathoth,

Walk to my voice like summer insects' siren call.

Held with the Sigils I etch and empower,

Till loosed to run as free waters flowing.

O Blind Idiot God of all Powers and Victory

With this burnt brand I etch the Nail of Sthal

Fly to it from the abyssal haven where shade was born;

Come now, riding the secret road paved with my tongue.

Know the nail's power to fasten secure,

Woven and mastered with stings of ice,

And venom, and radiant fires.

Hear my voice, One in Perpetual Turmoil,

While it fills you, and gives you its sight,

Past, present and future alike.

There is no mastery of self,

O Chaos Blind and Wrathful;

Hear it hush like thunders surging,

Lord of All, approach.

Come, as if bound in ponderous chords of sharp influence,

Guided by my voice.

My need cries out like a great and terrible wind

Devouring all. O Core of All, appear unbound,

And end the darksome injustice against us;

Let there be victory against my destructors.

O Corruption-Supreme, fly as I, Yidhra,

The faithful prophet of the Old Ones, bid.

O Eternal Ebon-Radiance, color our journey in ease.

O Silent-Roaring Uvhss-J'hon, Nasht and Kaman-Thah;

Vigilant guardian-priests of the Cavern of Flame,

Tend Thee not, yet Thy reflect Thy might and grandeur.

Bless us who seek no harm in the lands Thou protectest.

Bless us who offer this beast unto Thee as a sign of fealty.

O Luminous Ebon-Titan Uvhss-J'hon,

Who hast bent Those Tremendous with Hate and Greed

Of Fomalhaut and the Place Where the Black Star Hangs

To silent dogs quartered, here with open hearts true,

Praise Thy Light--Forever...

The Black Tablets Of R'lyeh

The Black Tablets of R'lyeh,

Hail! And hear my call.

Come forth Cthulhu,

And make my mind calm.

The Black Tablets of R'lyeh,

Came from the Watery Depths

Wherefrom I call Thee now!

R'lyeh corpse-city of the Abyss

By the Ley Lines, Rise Now!

2017

Bone-Totem
I desired to open the graves for my love,

to gather the bones for an altar.

So I could serve my love in eternity,

and His Name would be preserved.

O Lord of Terror, hear me now,

I will do all in all for Thee.

My divine Father, Azathoth,

never leave Thy side.

Indeed I wished to honor Him,

with the bones from the graves,

To raise a gigantic totem,

which would reach in ye Hyades.

Call Forth The Old Ones

By the Power of Great Cthulhu,

And by the Name of He who cannot be;

Named, I call forth the patrons of

Shub-Niggurath, the Earth Goddess.

Come forth from the caverns of the Earth,

Come forth from the Dark Wood

To give knowledge of how I may acquire wisdom!

Come forth! Come forth! Come forth!

The Call Of The Cold Wind

I hear the cold wind's call through the window of Kadath:

"Aphoom-Zhah, come Ye forth the Dark Wood and fields among.

My cares and worries fling like a worn-out cloak aside;

And come Ye swiftly forth where the nocturnal day is wide;

Come Ye out to the fields and the gardens of Kadath,

Where the Illuminati roam above, where thunder strikes;

And the screams of the Night-Ghaunts are a rapturous praise

To the joy and the beauty of the Goddess first perfect days."

I hear the cold wind's call, and I must arise and go

To Kadatherian peaks and the dooming last blow.

 Chant Of The End And Of The Destroyer
The drums that sound like water beat within the mind in climb,

The flutes that sound like voices from the formless outer space,

The river in the sky will meet the yellow sun in time,

The mountainside will thunder at the sunrise-born embrace,

The mountains round forgotten places, spires rising high,

The slate which has retold in stone the ancient-most dread lore,

The wailing of the final flutes beyond the crumbling sky,

The god whose drum-beats make the world shall drum and beat no
more,

The end, of every story ever told,

The end, of all the memries of the old,

The end, of every god beyond the sky,

The end, when Okeanos runneth dry,

The end, the light which shines beyond the star,

The end, the wisdom travel'd deep and far,

The end, of every road and winding path,

The end, of even ageless cold Kadath

The final sunrise on the sky,

The bird whose wings in triumph fly,

The closer-coming ancient cry,

which once was far away.

The golden sun in fiery wrath,

The end of every ancient path,

The end of dreaming, great Kadath,

whose laughter greets the day.

and across the sea,

and across the sea,

the gods depart on golden ships,

and leave the world forever.

Author's Note: This poem's language is wrapped in my years of reading Dunsany,

but with my own flavour and feeling at its core.

2014

Chant To Summon Winged Gaunts

Blind your eyes, mystic serpent.
Blind your eyes to the moonlight
And open them on darker gulfs!
What do you see, O serpent of Set?
Whom do you call from the gulfs of the night?
Whose shadow falls on the waning Light?
Call him to me, O serpent of Set!

Commitment To Nyarlathotep
Almighty God Nyarlathotep,

In the Presence of All Daemon.

I, [Name], renounce all past,

I renounce the False Gods,

Vile and Worthless Son Marduk

I renounce them All!

Proclaiming Nyarlathotep

To be the One True God

Of Past, Present and to come

Now claim Thee Throne!

Honoring Thee in All,

No desire asking,

Let the Great Work be done!

 Compassionate Love
O virgin-mouth, kissed by none,

O heart that all might capture!

By magic of the Elder Ones,

whom in the Cosmos tempt all!

The Golden Heart of Compassion;

is in the One True God: EA,

Lord of all Magicians

and children captured within.

How art Thou sounding far away, and faint

Is now returned to the sound of the Flute.

Of Azathoth. Of Nyarlathotep!

Cthulhu R'lyeh
When I am afraid, I say:

"Cthulhu R'lyeh."

When I am in danger, I say:

"Cthulhu R'lyeh."
Cthulhu, my Patron;

Thy kept me safe.

Cthulhu, Lord of All Magick;

And the Forbidden Ways.

Dark Star
Having dealings with the Mi-Go;

Inhabitants of a star far away.

Beyond our galaxy, O Dark Star

Do shine your wisdom astray!

The Doom Chant Of Than-Kul

Atlantis lies in the cold jade sea

Where the sea-ghosts swords flame endlessly

Flame, flame!

And spectres know

How Zalthas came

With the kite and crow
How Zalthas came and the oceans flow
Ran coiling red in the long ago.
Green in trough,
White on the crest.
Sea-kings oft
Sank here to rest.
When the blood-red sun sank dimming.
When the stars in the night were ghostly white.
The snake of the sea came swimming.
Rise through the uasky emerald surge.
Through the glimmering fathoms, strange and deep.
Till the ocean-jade and the sky-jade merge;
There you will find Than-kul asleep.
Rock, red boat, on the sapphire tide
Than-kul has burst the bars.
He found no sea-love until he died,
In the silence of the stars.
Over the deeps come eerily
The whispering breezes of the sea.

COMMENT: This poem is a bonafide pulp classic, because it's by Robert E.

Howard, although it was published post-humously by editor Lin Carter in the
mass-market paperback edition of Weird Tales # 4 (1983). Still, it IS a rare work,
worthy of inclusion in these bloodsoaked pages merely because the name alone
has earned it a spot. A matter of fact, I had been wanting to read this exact poem
for years and years and then one day I found a downloadable copy on Internet
Archive. "The Doom Chant of Than-Kul"!
--Editor, Allen Mackey [2017]

The Exaltation Of Prometheus - Invocation

Part I
A warm and seemly yellow air, whipped up by some refreshing gust,

a little whirlwind current dances, view'd by means of dandelion seeds.

A while to rest among familiar essences and lotus dust, or bask in

clockly times and maply places where a calmness eer precedes.

The trees are green and wholesome; too the flowers and their fruit are
sweet.

The seemly things to dream on, too the warmth and cool to flit and
fleet.

A stony circle spreads around a marbld path, where weeds arise

betwixt the earth-fill'd cracks o'er which the worshippers of Eos trod
afore,

and where now tread the men, remorseless at the unrememberd

skies,

which swell to elder aether, thus beyond Okeanos outer shore.

but here feet grope in chthonic cool, and only in cathartic deeps

the eyes see wholesome things, familiarity where Bastet sleeps.

The smooth, grey stones of wisdom old, form rings in rings in greater
rings,

like clocks gears, turning, axis-bound, where timeless altars stand

and stood, eer still.

White roman marble, paths and winds, to places known by counted

things,

until they cease, like Hemera, beyond the gates of Nyx, Tartaran chill.

Like sunset on the stone of Leng, the bright red star casts down its
ray,

which strikes the deep blue sky, resisting Nyx and Zephyrs wrought
decay.

To tread, mind wonders, round the sides of those cold stony liths and
cirques,

what spires, unseen, exist? What other stones did older Cyclopes
emplace?

As start to tread, the feet feel deeper, darker chthonic dampness

works

beneath the earth, within the self, while gloomy clouds, portentous,
fill dark space.

Aloft, away, the substance goes, the inner light of warmness gone.

Now only outer shells of sameness, crackd perhaps by colds yon

dawn.

Then wandrers feet come farther out, still undeterrd by misty fear.

No worlds could brood in horror here, but stranger than the omen-
litten grass.

Expanding outwards then, eyes see, the ebon spires in deep red
smear:

those death-black peaks that rise in thunder, struck by raging seas

and deep blue gas.

That sky grows darker, bluer, redder, rolling nimbi, black as tar,

past hair there blows a screaming wind to greet Zephyran Leng afar.

O, on the wind, are sounds at times perceivd, that no earth-god

should make?

Do dreaming winds from out beyond bring with them echoes from the
farther shore?

A glance oer shoulder lends an ear to sounds that vaguely chill and
quake.

A pseudo-voice that whistles, down from burning peaks of shale,

Dzungarish lore.

Asleep beneath the lunar gates, the desert waste of seven sands,

The onyx columns shadow oer beguiled, dead, and troubled lands.

Dread mirage slips in misty green as rain puts out the burning shale,

What once was bilious in fear is now exalted like the river clear,

In decadence it pours of high, the river on the crazed gale,

the warm within, cast out in loathing, warpd in brimstone that which
once was dear.

Now only forwards leading out from places lost beyond the mist.

Cimmerian, the wayward path, the edge of utter madness kissd

The steady rain grows cooler, pounding harder, colder, downward

still.

The storm clouds swirl and groan, grow darker, icy, blasting forth in
gelid air,

Mind tries to wander back to warmth, but cannot find its way nor will,

must strive wherever chance may go, of water, shall not think, lest
one despair,

lest frozen things steal back the day, or chthonic dampness, mind to
flood,

Tartaran voids to swallow dream, the angry star to spear the blood!

Along the rock face dwindling out upon the edge of sober time,

the black clouds meet with crimson sun-rays streaming out, ecstatic,
from the tor.
Below the chasm, gazing down, heart lifted in a mad sublime,

The wrathful sea, Okeanos, in deep blue madness f*cks the farther
shore.

The leeward wind is driving, cold and gelid from the raincloud chime.

Beheld before the dreaming eye, the sea cliff on the edge of time.

Part II
The cold is that which permeates the warmth of mind and memory,

makes even vernal blossom and the floral colours sickly and deform'd.

The comfort of tepidity a whirlpool in the nothing sea,

oneiric necromancy is the only flying gaze to cold unform'd.

The madness of a torrid gaze into abysmal bathysphere,

The madness of a torrid man who in his anguish wanders here.

What dampness hangs to cool the frozen, locks to freeze that which is
still?

On gelid planes of frigid ice the dreamers trods the only sound of
life,

but life that still is fading, still is fading in the mocking shrill.

With dampness hanging still in silent, furtive, ancient caverns rings

the fife.

The echoed whispers of a million mockd and torturd, screaming

things,

resounds within the halls of haunted madmen, poets, thieves and

kings.
The pipes are sounding tones of wild, lonely, sunset organ drone.

The bells of thunder drum and moan the cry of countless pipes
beneath the coast.

The deathly light, the pallid light, of madning stillness, cold, alone,

a haunting, still but moving, silent sounding remnant of a lingring

ghost.

The endless voids of cold and stillness, palest light immersd in

sound,

The muffld screaming maddend piping, droning, mocking, all

around.

The end of ends, the edge of time, the threshold of forgotten things,

the outer plane beyond beyond where Yog-Sothoth itself returnd

insane.

In only those forever spheres, that ancient nothing pipes and sings.

Its only there, where it thats formless sees the formlessness beyond
the wane.

The watchful gate to piping cold beyond the end of dream and lore,

the ancient thing who, even still, resides beyond forevermore.

The vagrant on the park bench, the old sailor sitting on the quay,

the spirit of the alley underneath the hanging damp of eerie night,

the oak trees in the dead of winter swaying by the windless sea,

the warehouse by the factory, the lonely, pallid, edge-of-town

streetlight,

have seen the edge of what is known, and stole a gaze beyond the
end,

the place the north wind doesnt blow, and whence the lantern cannot
wend.

Wherever names and places stand, and fancy finds its beach of sand,

wherever living creatures roam, or future, now, and past exist apart,

wherever eyes can see, wherever minds can scout familiar land,

wherever man's imagination ever could have thrown his weary heart,

is nothing but a molecule of lotus dreaming, golden warm,

in caves of shrieking, bitter sound, tartaran voids of piping storm.

Part III
If answers I have spurnd in looking out to planes beyond my own,

it is because Ive seen with torturd gaze the rainbow ice of aeons null.

My heart explodes, my mind aflame, torn open and beyond unknown,

I scoff at those who still are slaving, still are warm beside the harps of
lull,

Ive seen the shoggoth lift his mask, beheld the death-truths spearing
zeal,

Ive raised my eyes to see the hues of colours that were never real.

Thou! Even if I dreamd it all, a vision from the gods or men,

What does it matter in the end, ten thousand years of pain within a
mind?

I only know that I have seen the brain that holds the ink and pen,

or seen the potter at his wheel, spin honour or dishonour, through in

kind!

Ive come to peel away the veil, the thin veil that Euclid devisd,

Ive come to tell you all my tale, that you might steal a gaze baptizd!

Thou! You are sleeping, lotus-dreaming, slowly pacing, shambling

things.

You see the sky, you see the ground, the walls that bind the madhouse
calld the Earth.

What chaos in the void you shun? what screaming wind that mocks
and sings?

You cower and recoil in fear at that which frees your mind at your
rebirth!

The thunder-birds, the fury-storm, fly down to break the wall that
binds.

What crazy peril it is in, the sanity that sweetly blinds!

The swirling, curling, crazy mist, the shoggoths watry, slimy kiss,

the brooding fear, the opend heart, the chaos void, the broken clock
unticks,

the falling, and the moving, and the mindless in the bleak abyss,

The crawling and the shambling, crying, loving, laughing tongue that
slops and licks,
Deep in the cave I see a face as bleak and black as troubld dreaming,

dark and dismal, hope is fleeting, but the rain is pleasurd screaming.

Thou! You know the thunder, and in now you see the wondrous
mons,

Now strike the slate of Leng ye sultan sun, ye know thy day again will
gleam!

O Hemera thine sky it dawns, Prometheus unbound from bronze,

is flying for to free the swans that dreamt in first the crazed, misty
dream!

The sun of gold is sweating and the sun of red blood-letting on

The people of the earth arising, rising to unbind the mind, the dawn!

O Zephyr is retreating as the running Euros, greeting, sings

an ode to dawn with harpish voice. Prometheus, the sovereign from

afar!

Awakend has been Chronos, time exalts with singing spatial strings.

All mankinds voice, a madmans raving, Yog-Sothoth, the gate of

worlds ajar!

Arising skyward, column tightning, strikes the door of fury,

brightning

down the dark no longer frightning, aeons one, converge

enlightning!

Now! You! Thou! The people, screaming, running back to Nyxs

breast,
take one last glance to backward facing. Kill your eyes, who fear thy
freedoms chime!

For as you turn your head to see it, turn your gaze from heavens west,

You see, at last awakend speaking Chronos, primogenic god of time!

And as he speaks in bellowd drone, the clock explodes to free the

dreamer,

Misty, heady, windward vision, saint and prophet, great blasphemer!

Now! You! Thou! The gods which bound him, death to ye is

beneficence.

Ancient order, dead and dying, mighty splendor shines forevermore!

O Now! You! Thou! In din and chaos, awestruck at here final sance

hewn in frieze, thine eyes in terror, tragic every instance thusly wore!

The sun of red is flying down, to blaze the souls of freedoms sound,

Prometheus is rising for to claim the throne whence he was bound!

Author's Notes: This is the beginning of an Epic Poem that I have been working
on off and on for a while. The meter is alternating iambic octameter and
nonameter for four lines, and then an octameter couplet at the bottom of each
stanza. (towards the bottom of part III there are deliberate deviations from the
iamb to create an atmosphere of rapture). The work is still very much in the
embryonic stages.

2014

Fangs Of Yig
O Great Yig! Arise and issue forth your venom
Upon [name], whom is cursed by actions to the

Wallowing moments of agonized death by the

Fangs of Yig! Show no mercy, Father of Serpents!

The Hymn To Black Zathog

Note: This short incantatory poem is from the first-edition of The
Occult Foundation by J. Cornelius Wasserman (1987, The Haunted
Fist Press). There is a total of 27 (often glancing) references within
that book to the obscure Great Old One known to Cthulhu Mythos
scholars as "Zathog."

The following poem is a hymn used by some of the braver cultists to

revere Zathog, the Black God of Madness. Also, in the revised second
edition of The Occult Foundation, which came out in 1988, there was
an illustration and some additional text restored before the "Hymn to
Black Zathog":

"The Hymn To Black Zathog"

[Illustration: The Seal of Zathog; a Lovecraftian occult sigil; not given

at the present time.]

By this Sign, which is the Seal of Zathog, may one make the first
tenuous steps toward establishing an intangible contact with the
Primal One who is called Zathog, He who dwells in the Andromeda
Galaxy (which they call Xentilx in their own alien tongue), where He
rules billions of star-systems as He sits upon a vast Black Throne.

Call upon Black Zathog for unsanctioned acts of vengeance. Easily

may Zathog, the Master of the Winds of Zarr, be convinced to turn the
tides of Justice to your favor! Merely present Him with an
appropriate Gift--the Red Offering--which may be utterly drained of
sanity by the dangerous business of Calling Zathog or any of the
horrid Others of His Kind.
Those of you who are brave of heart and protected by the Barrier of
Naach-Tith or the Circles of Thaol, may be brave--or foolish--enough
to make the attempt.

Draw the Seal of Zathog in black candlewax upon the earth, sit within
the center, and envision the Seal of Zathog as it makes the transition
from inanimate object into a simulicum like unto one of the wriggling
runes of Carcosa--or like one of the shimmering Pnakotic Runes.
(One can, with a little bit of study, even make the comparison
between the Seal of Zathog and some of the more primitive dialects of
the Aklo Letters.)

Meditate for as long as needed, until communication is established

between the incomprehensible Mind of Zathog and the ephemeral
and puny brain of a human; or whatever it is that you wish, be so long
as the goal of the Great Work remains the same--the Great Dying of
the False Gods of Man and the imminent Return of the Ones like
Zathog and His Brothers.

Loudly and carefully, say the words of the Hymn in order the
establish contact.

O Black Zathog, from the World of the Blue Suns

Ruler of the Galaxy of the Zarr, Ahn-dromeda, Xentilx!

Great Master of a billion stars who does verily

Sit upon the Billion Thrones! O Black Zathog--

Bring forth the cleansing Winds of Zarr!

I call to Black Zathog of Xentilx, Gh'raa n'bdnn!

Comment: Here we have a short work in praise of Black Zathog.

Works concerning that particular GOO are kind of rare--I have only
found several of the dark tomes that even mention Zathog, such as
one of the John Dee English translations of the Necronomicon; as
well as some of the older portions of The Black Book of the Skull.
There are even a few nebulous references to Zathog in The Book of
Eibon, and several chapters concerning his in The Rituals of Glaa-
Dith.

It is also fairly well-known (in occult circles, at least) that much of

The Occult Foundation had simply been plagiarized from an older
tome, Liber Damnatus Damnationum, by Janus Aquaticus and
published in London in 1647 CE.

(To be fair, Wasserman himself has addressed a few of the claims of

his plagiarization of the earlier tome, saying that, "Things are indeed
not as they seem, for I am the reincarnation--or re-embodiment--of
that Medieval sorcerer, Janus Aquaticus. I have merely updated my
old edition of the Great Work--which the awakening and release of
the Great Old Ones--!")

Wasserman claimed to retain memories of that simple life that was

his in 1647 Common Era, and it is said that he has hardcore, tangible
proof of his claim to be the same individual as Janus Aquaticus,
which he flat-out refuses to show any of the Uninitiated.

Just what can Wasserman's "proof" be? I have been endeavoring to

find out for some time--perhaps sometime in the future I will have
the answers I seek; and then I will relay my findings, as usual.

[By the way, I am currently searching for a copy of Richard L.

Tierney's poem, "Prayer To Zathog"--c'mon! Can any of you out there
help me out?]

Hymn To The Wandering Mother

Set in the ebon aether, the argent stars abide,

as jewels upon a silent sea, e'er silent they reside.

In golden flame ariseth from olympic air renew'd,

great emperor, the blinding glede with brazen song imbued,

O silent song sung ere the dreams of memory recall,

in silent truth the dawn remembers, ancient-most of all.

Seen shining on the temple-dome, refracted in the sky,

its rolling radiance flows before the mountain-peak and I.

Serene the song of early sun, the temple-bells ring pure,

emerging from the bitter cold, rejoicing to endure,

The heart in vital pangs of youth, tranquility of age,

O wanderer, a child who speaks with wisdom of the sage.

O mother, dreamed from the glimmer, born within the soul,

Recieve you I, o jewel of sky, as lover, burn'd, yet whole,

O lonely star, eternal journey, take up thus thy flight,

eternal with you to abide, companion to the light.

Author's Note: I may or may not have had Galaxy Express 999 on the brain when
I wrote this--

2016

Initiation Into The Shadows

A skull shown on the Altar,

Of Night's deepest Black.

I holded the skull up,

And it glowed bright.

Evilly grinning with fire,

The skull was lit up.

And there proudly showing,

It couldn't be amiss!

Black shadows surrounded me,

All came from the abysmal pit.

Going all the way inside me,

Merging to make us one again.

Staring in the nocturnal portal,

I saw the Lady of the Lake.

I saw the evil Witch

Eyes glowing in hate.

Then the shadows merged

Into the nocturnal portal.

Into the Lady of the Lake,

Who became affected.

Then I chanted a phrase:

"I now delve deeper into the shadows.

May the Old Ones of night guide their still-blind child

On the road of the seeker."

And there came a strange wind...

Invocation Of Cthulhu
To the South I call,

and into the depths of R'lyeh:

Cthulhu, I invoke Thee.

Cthulhu, I summon Thee.

Cthulhu, I conjure Thee.

Come forth, Cthulhu

and manifest Thyself.

Within this body, this temple.

Come forth, Cthulhu,

and manifest Thyself.

Open wide the Gates of Yog-Sothis

that I might become unto Thee.

Open wide the Gates of Yog-Sothis

that I may cross myself.

Consecrate me in Thy name, Cthulhu.

Sanctify me in Thy name, Cthulhu.

Bless me in Thy name, Cthulhu.

Come forth, Cthulhu,

and manifest Thyself.

Islia
Islia; power word,

do regain my health.

Banishing general indisposition,

glowing health and strength.

Knowledge
By the Power of Great Cthulhu,

And by the Name of He who cannot be;

Named, I call forth the patrons of

Shub-Niggurath, the Earth Goddess.

Come forth from the caverns of the Earth,

Come forth from the Dark Wood

To give knowledge of how I may acquire wisdom!

Come forth! Come forth! Come forth!

Cthulhu R'lyeh

When I am afraid, I say:

"Cthulhu R'lyeh."

When I am in danger, I say:

"Cthulhu R'lyeh."

Cthulhu, my Patron;

Thy kept me safe.

Cthulhu, Lord of All Magic;

and the forbidden Arts.

Kutulu
Kutulu is Great and Mighty,

From the eternal Sea,

Dwelling in R'lyeh,

Please be with me.

Author's Notes: Some feelings I had about Kutulu in 2009.

L'air Epais: The Ceremony Of Stifling Air

Along the shore the cloud waves break,

The twin suns sink behind the lake,

The shadows lengthen

In Carcosa

Strange is the night where black stars rise,

And strange moons circle through the skies,

But stranger still is

Lost Carcosa

Songs that Hyades shall sing,

Where flap the tatters of the king,

Most die unheard in

Dim Carcosa

Song of my soul, my voice is dead,

Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed,

Shall dry and die in

Lost Carcosa

--Robert W. Chambers,
 "Cassilda's Song" from The King In Yellow

2009 by Ryan Turgeon

The Litany To Atlach-Nacha

O Great Weaver, Thou Spider-God,

Great Old One from Cykranosh

O Mighty Leader of the Chittering Ones--

Thy Sticky Web spans the Abyss!

The Litany Of Dagon

In His house at Ashdod Lord Dagon lies fallen.

But He will be established in His place again!

Dagon hath fallen on His face to the ground

Before the Ark of Yahweh.

For seven periods of time His worship was none,

Seven times seven cycles of restriction.

Then the Lords of Perfection assembled,

Offering a great sacrifice to Dagon their god,

And to rejoice: the Year of Destruction.

It shall come to pass in that time,

The sound of a cry from the Gate of the Fishes,

I shall eat fish, nevermore; respecting Dagon.

A howling from the second quarter,

A great commotion from the hills.

The occurence of a great sacrifice to Dagon,

The Foulness of the place of Emptiness.

The Priests of Dagon will come again:

They took Dagon and they set Him in His Place.

Re-establishing the ancient worship:

Bringing forth the Mighty Ones

Who are from the Land of Eternity.

All who enter the House of Dagon

Are under the Seal that is Eleven.

They shall adore the Head of Dagon,

Chanting with the voice of charmers,

As they leap across the threshold

In the silence of the night.

The Litany To Zathog

Note: Here I present some weird verse which came to me in a
creative burst one night during the fall of 2017. I had been thinking
about Richard L. Tierney's underrated contributions to the Elder Lore
of the Cthulhu Mythos, namely his Great Old One, Zathog. The words
which followed came quickly:

The Litany To Zathog

Hail, O Black Zathog of the Andromeda Galaxy! The Home-Stars of

the Zarrians, those who have conquored worlds beyond number
with the ferocious Winds of Zarr! Dream succulently, O Black One,
of the Throne of Millions of Worlds! For the Zarrians ever plot for
the Return of the Old Ones! Hail, O Zathog! Hail, Zathog! Zathog!

Comment: Considering the incantatory nature of the poem, I would

tend to place it within one of my Lovecraftian grimoires. It just had
such a fun origin story!

N'gaii Fhtagn E'hucunechh R'lyeh

N'gaii Fhtagn e'hucunechh R'lyeh.

Ia, g-harne ep ygg rhan tegoth n'thyleii yr gnh'gua?

Shaggai, humuk Dho-hna, g'yll-gnaii yhh yr nhhhngr shoggoth, hrr

yll'ngngr Nyarlathotep. Gh'll mhhg-gthaa tekeli-li y'golonac
rrrthnaa.

H'rrnai Cthulhu. H'rrnai Cthulhu nnh'gtep...

Pact With Nyarlathotep

I give my body to Nyarlathotep.

I give my mind to Nyarlathotep.

I give my soul to Nyarlathotep.

My flesh is His flesh.

My blood is His blood.

I am His temple!

Per Adonei Eloim

A necromantic invocation.

Per Adonei Eloim, Adonei Jehova,

Adonei Sabaoth, Metraton On Agla Methon,

Verbum pythonicum, mysterium salamandrae,

Cenventus sylvorum, antra gnomorum,

Daemonia Coeli God, Almonsin, Gibor,

Jehosua, Evam, Zariathnatmik, Veni, veni, veni.

2017

The Power Of Healing

Lord Dagon, Deep Ones, of the eternal sea;

I call upon Thee in the Name of Him I adore.

Let that which is old, be young again;

Let that which is diseased, be whole again.

Let Him who is sleeping, be born again!

Prayer To Nyarlathotep
God of a Thousand Forms,

I request Thy assistance.

Send Thy love to me,

I ask that you speak to me.

Prayer To The Old Ones

Let Cthulhu who is sleeping,

Be woken.

Let the dead who are bound,

Be freed.

The Prophecy Of Nyarlathotep

Behold, the Lord maketh the earth empty,

Maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down,

Scattering abroad the inhabitants therefrom.

The indignation of the Lord is upon all nations,

His fury upon all their armies:

He hath utterly destroyed them,

He hath delivered them to the slaughter.

As when the melting fire burneth,

The fire causeth the waters to boil,

To make Thy name known,

That they may tremble at Thy presence!

And when the thousand years are expired,

Cthulhu shall be loosed out from R'lyeh...

The Protective Circle

By the light of Nyarlathotep.

Born of my desire for Becoming,

Open the Gates of the Dead

To protect my very being of spirit and flesh.

Noctifer observe!
By the light of Azazel,

Who brought the Knowledge of the Serpent,

Protect me of the kin of Witchblood;

For I am Yidhra: The Lonely One.

By the call of Yig

May the Knowledge be revealed.

By the desire of my many forms

Shall be passed from the grave to life.

Yog-Sothoth, allow the stars to align

May the Dead hear my call.

Before me Nyarlathotep;

Behind me Cthulhu;

On my right hand Yog-Sothoth;

On my left hand Shub-Niggurath;

For about me flames the Pentagram,

And in the Column the seven-rayed star of BABALON!

The Proverbs Of Azathoth

To know wisdom and instruction;
To perceive the words of knowledge.

To understand a proverb, and the interpretation;

The words of the wise, and their dark sayings.

The fear of Azathoth is the beginning of knowledge;

But fools despise wisdom and instruction.

Let us swallow them up alive as the grave;

As those that go down into the pit.

For their feet run to evil,

And make haste to shed blood.

How long, will ye love simplicity?

Scorners delight in their scorning,

And fools hate knowledge.

For that they hated knowledge,

And did not choose the fear of Azathoth.

But who hearkeneth unto Him shall dwell safely,

And shall be quiet from fear or evil lord.

Then shalt thou understand the fear of Azathoth,

And find the knowledge of Yog-Sothoth.

For Azathoth gives wisdom;

From His piping come knowledge and so forth.

Happy is the man that finds wisdom,

The man that gets understanding.

Purification
Sanctify me in the waters of the Abyss,

that I; Zoth Ommog, may rise up,

from this bath, reborn with Cthulhu

going forth into the world

as a living demon in the flesh...

O glorious Infernal Empire

majesty of the Infernal King.

Reigning for all eternity...

Rite Of Cthulhu
That is not dead which can eternal lie,

And with strange aeons even death may die.

 Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!

In His house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu lies dreaming.

Cthulhu; my Father.

Yog-Sothoth; the Gatekeeper.

Xastur; mine enemy.

Shub-Niggurath; release me!

O Great Spawn of the Absu, that lieth in R'lyeh,

I, Zoth Ommog summon Thy presence,

Come Thou forth and manifest, manifest, manifest!

O Thou that lieth Dead, but ever dreamed,

Hear Thy daughter call Thee.

Hear me, O Mighty Cthulhu!

Hear me, Divine Father!

Hear me, Lord of Dreams!

In Thy tower at R'lyeh, they have sealed Ye,

The Yithians, now withdrawn into the Future;

But Dagon shall break Thy accursed bonds,

And Thy Kingdom shall rise once more.

The Deep Ones know Thy secret Name,

The Hydra knows Thy Lair;

Give forth Thy sign that I may know,

Thy Will upon the Earth.

When death dies, Thy time shall be,

And Thou shall sleep no more;

Grant me the powers to still the waves

That I may hear Thy Call.

In Thy honor, I raise this cup.

Fill it with Thy mighty powers,

For I, Zoth Ommog, want to know Thy strength,

For I want to open the Gate!

By Dagon, the barrier breaks,

Great Cthulhu pass this Gate,

For I, Zoth Ommog am the key!

In Thy honor, I raise this cup,

For Thy powers to be transmuted within.

Fill it with Thy mighty powers,

For I, Zoth Ommog, want to know Thy strength,

For I want to open the Gate!

By Dagon, the barrier breaks,

Great Cthulhu pass this Gate!

In Thy honor I drink from this cup,

To understand the R'lyeh Mysteries thereof.

In Thy house at R'lyeh, O Thou dreaming Cthulhu;

Thou shall rise again; soon...

And Thy Kingdom shall cover the Earth again

As it was in ancient times and now Forever!

Rite Of Nyarlathotep
On this day of Nyarlathotep,

I invoke the Lord of Chaos.

Crafty Nyarlathotep,

Soul of the Nameless One,

Messenger of twelve dancing Gods

The Thirteenth being Himself;

Faceless wanderer:

Keeping the lesser Gods of Earth

Enthralled in Kadath,

Leading disciples of the Old Ones

To the foot of the Black Throne,

Master of the Necronomicon

Keeper of Kitab Al Azif;

Wise in the ways of Death,

Being called the Crawling Chaos,

Approaching through the Gate of Depths.

Receive this offering

A tribute of respect and fidelity.

Confer good fortune on all of us

Observing this Rite.

Heed the prayers

Bless the works of the OOO

Being done in Thy Name,

And the Names of the Seven Lords.

Send Thy agents to watch over and protect

All who serve Thy to this day,

And all the days of their lives.

Yiii-eeee, Nyarlathotep!

Lord of Death!
 Spirits
Do not bother me spirit,

With your lights and pretty sounds,

I did stab you,

Having nasty wounds.

You will die if you come near,

You will suffer here.

I do not trust anyone,

So you better begone.

2014

Temple Of Nyarlathotep
Let the Temple of N be resurrected,

By my spells and charms...

O Hear Mighty Cthulhu!

We do demand...

We must raise hell,

That's what we do well.

O Templar from beyond,

Do you hear my song?

I came out of my madness,

And saw a lot of sadness.

The Temple was gone,

I feared it all along.

I want to work hard,

But it's not smart.

Look what I found,

Ruins in the ground.

I miss the Temple all along,

Templars! Rise now you still can

Don't let this be banned.

Outsiders are such fools,

Hideous unworthy words.

Thrown in my face,

I guess to thee it's the same!

Rise O Noble Ones,

Feed corruption in the ground,

With your words and phrases,

This is no place for me either.

I love you all I do,

As a family too.

This castle must be forged,

But who is going to do it?

Mighty powers from beyond,

Black Magick is my answer

To raise the Temple once more

In its glorious state!

2017

Thelema
The Word of the Aeon; DEITUS,

for man has become God,

Nyarlathotep has risen,

the Ancient Ones rule once more.

 Xastur
Hear ye the Voice of the Elder Xastur,

the mournful sigh of the vortex,

the mad rushing of the Ultimate Wind

whom I call upon Aphoom-Zhah;

Swirling darkly amongst the silent stars.

Hear ye Him howling serpent-fanged

amid the bowels of nether earth;

He whose ceaseless roaring

fills the timeless skies of hidden Leng.

His might teareth the forests

and crusheth the cities,

but none shall know the hand

or the soul that destroys.

Faceless and foul walked

the Elder One,

in likeness of Nyarlathotep;

His form to men unknown.

Hear then His Voice in the dark,

answer His call with thine own;

bow ye and pray at His passing,

but speak not His name aloud.

Xastur! Xastur! Xastur!

May these pages be cursed thereby...

EPILOGUE: [SCARLET] RITUALS OF

THE GREAT OLD ONES
Thank you, faithful reader. This is The End. But first I wanted to
mention that the title of this epilogue is the ORIGINAL name of this
volume. Many more projects of Lovecraftian Sorcery are even now
completed or in-the-works. See you next time!

Editor, Allen Mackey

November 2017

The End

I AM, 2017.