Nyarlathotep

The Crawling Chaos

Messenger of the Outer Gods


Risen from the blackness of 27 centuries

Bearing messages from places not of this planet

When the heat rose he came, chaos precedes his name

By the pale moon his light guides, and by madness divides.


Your world transported between veils of existence

Mind exposed to reality beyond human sense

His purpose beyond comprehension

Only brief glimpses shown of his intentions.


Nyarlathotep

Bringer of Nightmares

Prophet of Destruction


Risen from the blackness of 27 centuries

Bearing messages from places not of this planet

When the heat rose he came, chaos precedes his name

By the pale moon his light guides, and by madness divides.




Your world transported between veils of existence

Mind exposed to reality beyond human sense

His purpose beyond comprehension

Only brief glimpses shown of his intentions.

A thousand forms he has taken

Yet will he forever remain faceless

Now you shall know the ruin he’s left

This one that they call the soul of the ancients.


The truth will be laid bare, your gods cannot save you

Only now you are aware, you don’t want to know what made you

You don’t want to know what made you!


Drifting upon the charnel winds from chambers beyond time

Through the graveyards of the universe comes a thin monotonous whine

Joined in an endless ceremony to the ceaseless beating of drums

From whence ultimate chaos spawns plays the mad flute for Azathoth, the blind god.


Nyarlathotep

The Crawling Chaos

Messenger of the Outer Gods

Prophet of Destruction



Risen from the blackness of 27 centuries

Bearing messages from places not of this planet

When the heat rose he came, chaos precedes his name

By the pale moon his light guides, and by madness divides.


Your world transported between veils of existence

Mind exposed to reality beyond human sense

His purpose beyond comprehension

Only brief glimpses shown of his intentions.

A thousand forms he has taken

Yet will he forever remain faceless

Now you shall know the ruin he’s left

This one that they call the soul of the ancients.