---

Listen my child

Heed my whispers, my calls

I am father

I am shadowy dream

Unlike your peers

Your path has purpose

Borne not from men

But from my penumbra

Your fate

Your path

Your power, I transcend

To find what is between the gate and key

Tainted Arkham is the end of your path

Your time is short

Beware the hounds of time

Seek the fell tome

In the cursed Miskatonic

It holds secrets

Paths to better gods

Your blood is to be spilled

By mortal means

So you might manifest

My beauty, unseen