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Song of Hastur →


Into fabled, grim Carcosa,
the King in Yellow thus did fly.
Perched above an orange nova,
all he touched began to die.

Along the streets of broken glass,
yellow robes and a crown of gold,
and a mask, a mask - terrible and crass.
“That,” they muttered, “is someone bold.”

The masked man…


Lord of the Flies [1963 Peter Brook]

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