Cult of Nyarlathotep

Mythos poem.

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My father is a Cultist man,
With powers like no one can.
Assembling in the Giza plane,
No, I don't believe him insane.

Sometimes he goes to Innsmouth,
Doing evil, making me proud.
My father looked for me,
'Cause I am his only child.

One day he will come for me,
And he will bring me to thee.
To the Cult of Nyarlathotep,
Where my family is, now see?

My father is a Cultist member,
Building fires in enormous ember.
Chanting all around,
And then comes the sound.

'Cause the Gate is open,
And Nyarlathotep is awoken.
One day the Cultists will come to me,
And then I will be truly free!

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