night of dread

By chance or in view it was mischance that lead us to find the strange arts long out side of this human existence but by means other then science we have opened a door we can no longer close as the pain of the truth that has brought untold death which that yet linger within its pages as a book that has drawn so many into a fatal embrace as the blood yet flows with that of

the like of unnumbered tears that have being shad by the multitude of people that once felt the dreams of hope only to fade in to the darkness of the human hart that is divide by the book; what we take for evil is in some light that of good and vice a verse as once more the shadow of the book creeps out to snare those that do not take dew conation as the blackness that we

try to fight over take that which is good only to leave the hint of despair as those that know the truth reveal in the pain and misery in the breathe glimpsed that was hope only to be dashed upon the rock of despair as the book infiltrates ones mind the page take there true course as the words that read here once man did stand like that which came before only by his own

hand to fall like the elder race that have all ready past and faded from this land all that is left is long lost cities and coved in dust as the twilight of the world we new is know and forever part of the book which name I will not writ save for the graven image that the book of shadows has left with in my mind as it has lead me to dread that which I once read only to leave me with tears of blood which I do shad as the book has a hold over me and yet more do I read In its page the many strange gods of cults and right that were not meant for man ………

As the night grows close I feel a strange feeling as if being watched as the creaks and groans of this house leave me in ever lasting dread!