People of the Monolith

Texts

They say foul beings of Old Times still lurk In dark forgotten corners of the world,
And Gates still gape to loose, on certain nights, Shapes pent in Hell. – “People of the Monolith”

–––– –

They lumber through the night With their elephantine tread; I shudder in affright
As I cower in my bed. They lift colossal wings
On the high gable roofs Which tremble to the trample Of their mastodonic hoofs. – “Out of the Old Land”