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Snow it blinds my eyes
These mountains never end
A whisper on the wind
โ€œThe deep ones sleep belowโ€

Consuming flesh
Sucking marrow from your bones
Evil from darkest time
A fate thatโ€™s left unknown

Structures grotesque and foul
Made by inhuman hand
The things that we have witnessed
Could drive a man insane

All the dogs are dead
Our supplies are running low
Penguins of monstrous size
Oh god what have we found

โ€œJournal of William Turner-September 1930

They are dead.All dead. Even the dogs.
The things I have seen...the unspeakable horrors....oh Jesus christ.
i beg whoever finds this that, if I do not return, never come back to this damned continent.
Why did we come here? Oh God...God forgive us.what have we done?โ€

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