The King in Yellow
by Todd Daugherty
In the city of Carcosa, where time stands still,
Lies the story of a king whose tale is told as myth.
His visage haunts our dreams and his name fills us with dread,
The King in Yellow, a figure both dreaded and dread.
His play, a sinister work that twists the mind's eye,
Leaves its readers in a trance, their sanity to fly.
For within those pages lies a truth too dark to see,
A revelation of a realm where all is not as it seems.
The King himself is but a shadow, a phantom of our fears,
Whose presence lingers in the air, causing chills and tears.
He rules over realms unseen, where time has no hold,
And his subjects are those who have been ensnared by his spell's cold.
His crown is made of gold, yet tarnished with despair,
His robes a sea of sorrow, forever stained by care.
And though he sits upon his throne, he knows not joy or glee,
For in the city of Carcosa, all is misery and woe to be.
So let us heed the warnings from those who dared to tread,
Upon this path of madness where the King in Yellow's head.
For once you've seen him, there's no turning back,
You'll find yourself trapped in his web, your fate now black.
And so we pray that we may never hear the chimes play,
Nor witness the dancers dance, for fear our souls to lay,
In the realm of Carcosa, where the King in Yellow reigns,
A king whose rule is one of pain and suffering, ever cursed by unseen chains.
For he who wears the mask of the King in Yellow's play,
Is doomed to live forever in a world that has no way.
To escape the madness or find solace from his grip,
For the King in Yellow's reign will never end nor slip.
by Todd Daugherty
In the city of Carcosa, where time stands still,
Lies the story of a king whose tale is told as myth.
His visage haunts our dreams and his name fills us with dread,
The King in Yellow, a figure both dreaded and dread.
His play, a sinister work that twists the mind's eye,
Leaves its readers in a trance, their sanity to fly.
For within those pages lies a truth too dark to see,
A revelation of a realm where all is not as it seems.
The King himself is but a shadow, a phantom of our fears,
Whose presence lingers in the air, causing chills and tears.
He rules over realms unseen, where time has no hold,
And his subjects are those who have been ensnared by his spell's cold.
His crown is made of gold, yet tarnished with despair,
His robes a sea of sorrow, forever stained by care.
And though he sits upon his throne, he knows not joy or glee,
For in the city of Carcosa, all is misery and woe to be.
So let us heed the warnings from those who dared to tread,
Upon this path of madness where the King in Yellow's head.
For once you've seen him, there's no turning back,
You'll find yourself trapped in his web, your fate now black.
And so we pray that we may never hear the chimes play,
Nor witness the dancers dance, for fear our souls to lay,
In the realm of Carcosa, where the King in Yellow reigns,
A king whose rule is one of pain and suffering, ever cursed by unseen chains.
For he who wears the mask of the King in Yellow's play,
Is doomed to live forever in a world that has no way.
To escape the madness or find solace from his grip,
For the King in Yellow's reign will never end nor slip.