| «He screamed and screamed and screamed
|
| In a voice whose falsetto panic no acquaintance
|
| Of his would ever have recognized: and though
|
| He could not rise to his feet he crawled and rolled
|
| Desperately away from the damp pavement where
|
| Dozens of Tartarean wells poured forth their
|
| Exhausted whining and yelping to answer
|
| His own insane cries»
|
| Subterranean vaults behold
|
| Man mad enough to be here
|
| Through the Stygian hole
|
| To this malodorous gulf
|
| Down, down ran the stairs
|
| In three abrupt turns
|
| Down, down, down below
|
| But this fool man just went on
|
| The chorused anguish
|
| Of doom-dragged moaning
|
| Like a stricken flesh sans mins
|
| And the voices continued
|
| But so did he…
|
| Through the cyclopean vaulting
|
| And black noisome corridors
|
| Revelations found
|
| Like silent eerie sentinels
|
| Haunted dreams that carry on
|
| Like vacant planets on their way
|
| Haunted cavers he
|
| They wail their twised cry
|
| The wail of the Tartarean wells
|
| Like a smister planets on their way
|
| Sickening
|
| The formulaes of Curwen were
|
| Found amid these haunted memories
|
| Where the science went to madness
|
| And madness to science
|
| Theme from H.P. |
| Lovecraft’s
|
| «the Case of Charles Dexter Ward» |