DOLMEN OF THE MOON, by Deuce Richardson

It looms, as I stand in the shadows’ length,

Amazed before a cyclopean Door.

Immense it rises there, in sullen strength.

Strength that many a tempest bore.

On the threshold, with sudden pause,

I hear a ghostly echo of titanic claws.

My soul, whose fears I cannot quell

Bids me kneel down and murmur low

Incantations of warding, as I know

Therein ancient, dark secrets dwell.

~ Fr.Wm.von Junzt ~