The Horror of the Town by the Sea  (An homage to H.P. Lovecraft)

By the coast in New England stands a town
As you approach you can see it’s run down
Moss on the walls, seaweed on the floor
Damp swelling every wooden front door.

There’s only one bus a day coming in
No-one leaves, they remain within
The sky here always seems dark
The look of the town is Spartan and stark.

If you should venture to visit
Then your bravery does you credit
Do not hope to survive the night
Do not expect to see morning’s light.

Never think to enter the church
Not even in the name of research
For in there is the heart of the foulness
A sea-spawned evil that is truly ageless.

It is now the temple of Dagon
A power that wants you as a bondsman
A tentacled horror released from the deep
Its minions will take you awake or asleep.

Innsmouth is the name of the place
In there are such horrors to face
You must be either stupid or brave
If it’s adventure therein that you crave.

You won’t find it marked on a map
Cartographers know it’s a death trap
If you decide to visit still
Be sure to make out your will.

It’s not your death that Dagon will seek
It wants to make you a tentacled freak
This evil that is truly dark and ancient
Wants you as a perverted adherent.

So how do I know of this place?
Well, mine is a tragic case
I boldly ventured in here
Sometime in summer last year.

I’m afraid the truth is I never left
Of humanity I’m almost bereft
And now, friend, I am barely able
To hold this pen with my tentacle…