Ron Shiflet

When the world was young, from the depths of space,
Came the Elder Things to Earth's southern pole,
So enigmatic, this alien race,
Whose science and art all sages extol.

From a great city in the vast white waste,
They soon migrated to most other lands,
Great colonizers with no need for haste,
Creating shoggoths to obey commands.

Then, Ubbo-Sathla, the life-spawning god,
Was created by these strange Elder Things,
Bringer of life to the sea and the sod,
To the burrowers and users of wings.

Soon there were others who came from the stars,
The Mi-Go and Cthulhu's dark spawn,
What then ensued was a series of wars
Until spheres of influence were redrawn.

A shoggoth revolt and unending war
For control of the terrestrial plane,
Taxed their resources as never before
And their dominance soon started to wane.

Withdrawing at last to the south polar lands,
Now preoccupied with science and art,
There they would regroup or make a last stand,
If deadly conflict should ever restart.

Through unending aeons, hidden from view,
They created and awaited their time,
Musing and dreaming their numbers now few,
As they slumbered in the white frozen clime.

Disturbed only once in most recent years
By humans, egotistical and vain,
A great expedition, ending in tears
And with reports that no one believed sane.

Patiently watching, the last of their kind,
Eldritch creatures that have never known doubt,
Wary of all who now venture to find
The location of their hidden redoubt.


© 2003 Edward P. Berglund
"The Elder Things": © 2003 Ron Shiflet. All rights reserved.
Graphic © 1998-2003 Erebus Graphic Design. All rights reserved. Email to: James V. Kracht.

Created: May 3, 2003; Updated: August 9, 2004