Dagon

Scorching sun, madness is growing near alone, desperate, he tries to survive Death he left behind, the great war he escaped but little did he know that even worse was luring ahead DAGON! Suddenly black shores surrounded him fortune oh fortune But he knew at once that the stench of rotten fish would linger in his memories forever Then he feels a foolish pride thinks he discovered an ancient tribe he sees an altar with a globe Witness of cults unseen before dreams of wealth they'd soon be torn when he encounters the great Dagon Reaching out to look closer what does he see in the blackness of the mud? A figure moving closer, breathing, drooling fierce eyes are longing for his blood He shudders even years later when he closes his eyes He runs black mud becomes water again he returns home Morphine! wishing he had died by the war