Becoming

More about Becoming

Behold ye Gods of old, long forgot,
In eldritch depths where light dares not to trot.
Their forms not meant for mortal eyes to see,
Lurk in the silence of a sunken sea.

Once rulers of realms, now realms of none,
Their whispers twist the minds of those they shun.
In nightmares deep, their ancient voices creep,
Stirring the souls of those who dare to sleep.

Their temples, hidden, lie in ruins vast,
Echoes of power, shadows of the past.
In darkness, they await, their time to rise,
Beneath the stormy, ever-watchful skies.

So heed the warning whispered by the gale,
Of ancient gods, their wrath, and what it entails.
For in the depths, their dark designs are spun,
Till stars align, and their will be done.