On a cold and lonely New England beach,
I fearfully tread upon sea-kissed sand,
With memories locked behind my mind's door,
I desperately seek to understand.
A terrible event occurred near here,
That has stolen from me the ones I love,
To this forlorn place I return each year
And pray for answers to my god above.

Fragmented memories return at last,
With each step toward Innsmouth that I take.
Why does this place hold the key to my past
And my thread of sanity, almost break?
It's becoming clear as They now arrive,
Today, I will not leave the beach alive.

© 1999 Ron Shiflet

First Appearance: NIghtscapes #11

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