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object:1f.lovecraft - Ex Oblivione
author class:H P Lovecraft
subject class:Fiction
genre class:Horror
class:chapter


When the last days were upon me, and the ugly trifles of existence
began to drive me to madness like the small drops of water that
torturers let fall ceaselessly upon one spot of their victim’s body, I
loved the irradiate refuge of sleep. In my dreams I found a little of
the beauty I had vainly sought in life, and wandered through old
gardens and enchanted woods.
Once when the wind was soft and scented I heard the south calling, and
sailed endlessly and languorously under strange stars.
Once when the gentle rain fell I glided in a barge down a sunless
stream under the earth till I reached another world of purple twilight,
iridescent arbours, and undying roses.
And once I walked through a golden valley that led to shadowy groves
and ruins, and ended in a mighty wall green with antique vines, and
pierced by a little gate of bronze.
Many times I walked through that valley, and longer and longer would I
pause in the spectral half-light where the giant trees squirmed and
twisted grotesquely, and the grey ground stretched damply from trunk to
trunk, sometimes disclosing the mould-stained stones of buried temples.
And always the goal of my fancies was the mighty vine-grown wall with
the little gate of bronze therein.
After a while, as the days of waking became less and less bearable from
their greyness and sameness, I would often drift in opiate peace
through the valley and the shadowy groves, and wonder how I might seize
them for my eternal dwelling-place, so that I need no more crawl back
to a dull world stript of interest and new colours. And as I looked
upon the little gate in the mighty wall, I felt that beyond it lay a
dream-country from which, once it was entered, there would be no
return.
So each night in sleep I strove to find the hidden latch of the gate in
the ivied antique wall, though it was exceedingly well hidden. And I
would tell myself that the realm beyond the wall was not more lasting
merely, but more lovely and radiant as well.
Then one night in the dream-city of Zakarion I found a yellowed papyrus
filled with the thoughts of dream-sages who dwelt of old in that city,
and who were too wise ever to be born in the waking world. Therein were
written many things concerning the world of dream, and among them was
lore of a golden valley and a sacred grove with temples, and a high
wall pierced by a little bronze gate. When I saw this lore, I knew that
it touched on the scenes I had haunted, and I therefore read long in
the yellowed papyrus.
Some of the dream-sages wrote gorgeously of the wonders beyond the
irrepassable gate, but others told of horror and disappointment. I knew
not which to believe, yet longed more and more to cross forever into
the unknown land; for doubt and secrecy are the lure of lures, and no
new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the
commonplace. So when I learned of the drug which would unlock the gate
and drive me through, I resolved to take it when next I awaked.
Last night I swallowed the drug and floated dreamily into the golden
valley and the shadowy groves; and when I came this time to the antique
wall, I saw that the small gate of bronze was ajar. From beyond came a
glow that weirdly lit the giant twisted trees and the tops of the
buried temples, and I drifted on songfully, expectant of the glories of
the land from whence I should never return.
But as the gate swung wider and the sorcery of drug and dream pushed me
through, I knew that all sights and glories were at an end; for in that
new realm was neither land nor sea, but only the white void of
unpeopled and illimitable space. So, happier than I had ever dared
hoped to be, I dissolved again into that native infinity of crystal
oblivion from which the daemon Life had called me for one brief and
desolate hour.
Return to “Ex Oblivione”


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1f.lovecraft - Ex Oblivione
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