Sleep deep, Zothique, drear land of the dreaming and
weird burdened. Dream not nightmares of sweetness, but
dark dooms of lost towns. Deep in dreams, dead
cities arise, in the world of last days.
Dream deep, oh ghouls, graveyard dwellers, devourers of
dead sleepers. Scoff with glee at the way that the
rich wastrels squander wealth, on tomb wards,
curses: for crypts are not sacrosanct, safe
Scheme deep, Thasaidon, ere all the days of the
last continent pass swiftly. All gods and all
which walk in evil dreams will die. Suns
die, and their planets will die as gods die.
Seem deep and wise, so wise, oh you whelp in your
blind, arrogant youth. Mordiggian knows, and I,
your folly. Child, your strength is weak, false.
Fight you? I find the idea beneath worth.