James Gruetzmacher and Ron Shiflet

An immense nefarious Titan claw,
Slashes apart the dark, moonlit sky,
As the stars listen in silent awe,
Afar from that eldritch, forboding cry.

In our deep confusion there came a wind,
Carrying death and a charnel stench,
On addled senses we could not depend,
Blindly we stumbled into some dark trench.

As we peered over the edge cautiously,
For the arrival of the baneful Gods,
Bewitched of all arcane propensity,
Manifested as polypoidal globs.

Bereft of reason, in panic we ran,
Even deeper into that dark abyss,
We hid from the things, devising a plan,
But to our ears came a serpentine hiss.

The ground beneath our feet slowly shifted,
As finger-like tentacles grew and reigned,
Over slobbering masses that twisted,
Before hungry death coils that slew and maimed.

From the huge gaping maws we were fleeing,
As the escape route lead into the earth,
Half insane from the things we were seeing,
'Twas the creatures of nightmare, given birth.