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Outside

I can hear their Rhythmic chanting
And it fills me with dread and fright
As it carries on monotonously
Through this crisp winter night.
They are calling one of the old ones,
Raising it from sleep,
Back into this world of ours from
Its prison in the deep.
There was a price to pay
If the old one came;
There was a price to pay
And the lottery drew my name.
And the chanting has got louder
Spilling out into the night
Full of awe and hysteria
And I am full of dread and fright.
I can hear their Rhythmic chanting
And I think I can hear more.
There are footsteps outside my hut.
There is some thing outside my door.






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