Writhing, contorting
Just under the surface, just out of reach
In this vast undercurrent beneath reality
There it rots, malignant source
Watching from the other side of the mirror
Yet I feel their pull
Evil that is not of this world
In dreams of death and silent screams
I feel the things which remain unseen
This blackened realm where chaos sings
In this hell where dead gods are king
Trapped inside our collective mind lies this abysmal truth
Here reside the icons of evil
The source of all pain
The horrific truth of this negative plane
Forever they watch, knowing what awaits
The shifts between worlds shall dictate their escape
Ever watching, ever present
Seeking to enslave
The dead gods long to consume us all