Tail of tentacles

Between stars up in the sky,
the power of the Old Ones lie,
looking at that shoggoth fly,
with elegance of butterfly.

Discarded as old pony’s tale,
relevance had all but bail,
although those shapeless things are rare,
still, they’re more than mind can bear.

In the tomb it dreams through day,
the ancient city sunken away,
home of monsters, you could say,
wielding knowledge worth of display.

Sometimes pony that acts weird,
like that Star Swirl with the beard,
through the mind exchanging deed,
more than one mind pays the heed.

Ancient tales of subtle doom,
of judging eyes beyond the moon,
waiting for the next big boom,
and madness, it shall be their groom.

Waiting patient day and night,
for stars to be once more right,
ponies, they not know such fright,
they’re brave - as long there’s light.

I guess salvation’s in ignorance,
even history would not enhance,
by leaving nothing to the chance,
to learn truth with simple glance.

Long before rein of moon and sun,
before age of harmony begun,
as shaping continents was done,
fire vampires were having fun.

Remnants of those elder times,
landmarks and the mystic chimes,
your magic also never dies,
while her giver in R’lyeh lies.

Immortal being if you wish,
leave your horseshoes on the dish,
and swim in ocean as a fish,
in Ponymouth, don’t be squeamish.

Eons, they may come and gone,
soon they’ll rise, all to last one,
and after their short time is none,
world of ponies will be undone!

To them we’re just a little dot,
so try and run to save your plot,
you are gonna cry, and cry a lot!
First they take shore, then Canterlot.

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