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"Again captive in the undistinguished world of the literary man. My mind wrapped in a dead thought and my word, sublime train of a damn dream..."

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I dreamed Cthulhu

Love you... Feeling the hatred mixed in the lettering, ambiguity of a phrase created for posterity:

"In the City of R'lyeh, the late Cthulhu, waits in a dream" _src

Asleep, Cthulhu waits for his moment. Awake, sleepless, my eyes nailed between the suspense and horror of the next line... Pages of a book that are your kingdom, implausible, parallel world created to dominate mind and body of those who immersed in the reading will always remain awake. You change my life for suffering, Cthulhu, You make me understand in this blue night the enigma of who is still alive and will continue to be for millennia... Anthropomorphic, octopus bat, nailed to the dirt of a desert planet. Troglo coming from beyond the universe, transforms everything into gray, even with the moon on its face, makes it impossible to look closely at death and its lament...

You preach the meaning of patience, your long wait that was not in vain. You are a cult motive, for those who believe that you can straighten out the lost course of humanity... Therefore, it was your condemnation not to die, for believing you God of the ends, where you grieve in your sleep taking fear as food.

"Oh! Cthulhu, Master of perdition, Lord of bestiality. Fill me with your story, the ephemeral foundation reason of the submissive. Make my place in R'lyeh, I will be a batrachian in your ocean of servitude, I will prowl among the passages of the guttural voice at a step of the primeval priesthood, portal of darkness where you reorder the peace of the world."

Once again my hand trembles before the pure gold, "Cthulhu", your own tentacles choke you with the meaning of inaudible pleading, between scales and sickly goo, your hidden truth. Who endowed a demon with wings? Or perhaps, you are not an evil gargoyle? Perhaps, the fallen angel who seeks forgiveness?

"R'yleh imposes your murky word... In the black and deep sea, you are mute and blind, you live immersed in machination. Subdue, plague the surface of the planet imposing the order where chaos reigns. That drop of water and salt is the only thing that shines while your voice is lost without return in the gloomy sound, untranslatable double meaning that transgresses the spirit of the wisest reader."

Oh! Cthulhu, you are a metaphor. I know that you live in the forniture of a book, in the imagination of those who transit the image and power of the word. Inspired by those who go beyond the genre of writing, you are the punishment in the hand of a poet. Cthulhu, the spilled ink... Fiction in an immemorial time that will last for generations in the culture and idiosyncrasy of the people.

Oh! Cthulhu, thank you for enlightening me, let me be a part of your saga, take me hostage and I will give the world a taste of the power of your word.