This got me thinking. I tried to start with how I think of Cthulhu - this high priest figure of the old gods in literature. How he is seen as a figure of fear. All consuming. And I can’t help but thinking, even someone with that much pressure on their shoulders needs rest. That we all need that hole in which to hide. Be quiet. Be by ourselves; with ourselves.
This poem doesn’t just say rest simply. It’s saying take the weight of the world off your damn shoulders and feel safe. That’s what I got from it anyway.