from a page of H.P. Lovecraft's "The Colour out of Space"
very black clouds
tipped with tongues of foul flame
and rustic tricklings
infected the moonlit ground
the last spectator
just ooze and bubbles
screamed
low-pitched
the hapless beast
stirred up something intangible
fiendish contours
grey brittleness
formless reflections
flared with unknown colour
the absence of the lamplight
shimmered
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