Carcosa is not a place. It is a disease that festers in consensus reality. It is a virus that catches you. The King in Yellow is not its ruler. It is the fever that lights the way.
Happy Birthday to:
Charles Carriker
Robert Carriker
Kerri Andrews
Tag Archives: Carcosa
The King is Yellowish – Color
There are many roads to Carcosa. Some are paved with good intentions. Others with yellow brick. Some are familiar shortcuts. Many take a winding, even scenic route. Once you arrive you never really leave. Or perhaps Carcosa never leaves you.
The King is Yellowish – B&W
Welcome back to Carcosa. Yes, things look different today than they did at your last visit. That’s the way of this place. It decays its way into new sights and songs, new smells and tastes.
Look around. Have a chat with a resident or three. Try to go mad in only the best way.
The King in Yellow – Color
Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.
Stranger: Indeed?
Cassilda: Indeed it’s time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.
Stranger: I wear no mask.
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask!
The King In Yellow – Black and White
- Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.
- Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies,
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.
- Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.
- Song of my soul, my voice is dead,
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.
