by
In this city
One sleeps silently, dreaming
Dark delights of desire.
Waiting patiently,
Until IT awakens, called.
Then the sea shall spit
IT's city to the surface.
Massive, sinuous tentacles will stretch,
Reaching past the vastness and time
To claim what IT dreams
A place, our minds.
Created: September 18, 1997; Updated: August 9, 2004