Curse of the Black Pharaoh - A Nephren-Ka Song | Nyarlathotep | Cthulhu Mythos | Lovecraft скачать в хорошем качестве

Curse of the Black Pharaoh - A Nephren-Ka Song | Nyarlathotep | Cthulhu Mythos | Lovecraft

#cthulhu #cthulhumythos #lovecraft #lovecraftian #nyarlathotep #aimusic Art used is by MorkarDFC: https://www.deviantart.com/morkardfc/... Lyrics: Nephren-Ka nai Hadoth Nephren-Ka nai Hadoth Lo, in the sands where no wind may weep, Beyond the gates that the gods have sealed, The Vault without Windows lies buried deep, Where the Stone of All Ages is unrevealed. By blood was it bought and by shadow bound, Its light is the death of mortal sight, And none may unseal what the darkness crowned, For the Black Pharaoh walks in the womb of night. Woe to the soul that dares to see, The Trapezohedron’s blasphemy, For the Black Pharaoh’s crown is the shade, And the stars bow low where His will is made. Woe to the soul that heeds His call, Whose dreams are carved on the crypt’s cold wall, For His reign shall bind both flesh and mind, Till the suns go out and the end we find. Woe to the soul in the shadowed tomb, For the Black Pharaoh walks in the womb, His curse shall gnaw till the end of days, And the world shall burn in His endless gaze. When Ra’s bright chariot faltered in flame, Came He whose tongue was a serpent’s breath, And the people bent to the Nameless Name, Till the Nile grew thick with the harvest of death. From Irem’s ruins the whispers came, Of the pact inscribed in the bones of kings, And the priests went mad at the dread proclaim, As the Worm at the world’s red marrow sings. Woe to the soul that dares to see, The Trapezohedron’s blasphemy, For the Black Pharaoh’s crown is the shade, And the stars bow low where His will is made. Woe to the soul that heeds His call, Whose dreams are carved on the crypt’s cold wall, For His reign shall bind both flesh and mind, Till the suns go out and the end we find. Woe to the soul in the shadowed tomb, For the Black Pharaoh walks in the womb, His curse shall gnaw till the end of days, And the world shall burn in His endless gaze. Behold — in the low places is written the fate of all flesh not devoured, Where the sigils burn with the light of lightless flame, In hieroglyphs none shall read till the unsealing of the final hour, Till the voice of the Crawling Chaos comes as it came. The throne of shadow shall not know decay, Nor the crown of night in its glory rust, For His hand shall turn the spheres away, And grind all worlds into wind and dust. Woe to the soul that dares to see, The Trapezohedron’s blasphemy, For the Black Pharaoh’s crown is the shade, And the stars bow low where His will is made. Woe to the soul that heeds His call, Whose dreams are carved on the crypt’s cold wall, For His reign shall bind both flesh and mind, Till the suns go out and the end we find. Woe to the soul in the shadowed tomb, For the Black Pharaoh walks in the womb, His curse shall gnaw till the end of days, And the world shall burn in His endless gaze. Woe, woe, unto the generations unborn, as foretold, For the Curse abideth as a worm within the marrow of the world. The Black Pharaoh liveth though His tomb be shut, And His name is a blasphemy upon the blight.