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Phantagraph, v. 4, issue 2, November-December 1935
12
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Its Prayer DUANE [W?] RIMES A grisly hand raised to the sky In awful supplication, Weaving dreams of elder worlds With rhythmic incantation. Spectral fingers clutched in vain At entities unbounded; Where star-spawn swirl in endless night Through spaces yet unsounded. Weak limbs rise and sway and fall Upon a lifeless planet, And strive with fruitless straining arms To reach and void and span it. The hand is graven in the earth, In mould that never darkens Save when it wrenches free its hold, Or to the west wind harkens. It flaps about and stretches up Into the cloudy distance, But cannot reach those nitemare [nightmare] realms Without a ghoul's assistance. And yet at least it soared indeed, All stars and worlds eluding--- This thing men thought a windtorn weed Through too long weeks of brooding
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Its Prayer DUANE [W?] RIMES A grisly hand raised to the sky In awful supplication, Weaving dreams of elder worlds With rhythmic incantation. Spectral fingers clutched in vain At entities unbounded; Where star-spawn swirl in endless night Through spaces yet unsounded. Weak limbs rise and sway and fall Upon a lifeless planet, And strive with fruitless straining arms To reach and void and span it. The hand is graven in the earth, In mould that never darkens Save when it wrenches free its hold, Or to the west wind harkens. It flaps about and stretches up Into the cloudy distance, But cannot reach those nitemare [nightmare] realms Without a ghoul's assistance. And yet at least it soared indeed, All stars and worlds eluding--- This thing men thought a windtorn weed Through too long weeks of brooding
Hevelin Fanzines
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