In the wind of the mind rises the Turbulence called I
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It breaks down, showers the barren thought
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All life is shocked, this desert is the abyss
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Wherein is the Universe
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The stars are but thistles in that waste
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yet this desert is but one spot accursed in the world of bliss
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Now and again travellers cross the desert
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They come from the Great Sea, and to the Great Sea they Go
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One by one they walked into the Land beyond the Stars,
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Following the secret Pathways into Creation unknown
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Guided by the forbidden Grimoires of Necromancy
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They heard the Call of Cthulthu, loudly roaming in the Sky,
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nonesome trembling from below
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Spectres arose before them,
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terrible Offsprings looked at them with their darksome eyes of Death
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Only the pure shall pass...
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May He who Tresspasses the void within
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and masters the Spellcraft of the Necronomicon
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descend into the Netherworld in all his Glory...
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Seduced By Necromancy
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