Night-Gaunts by H.P. Lovecraft (Multiple Takes)

Profile photo for Aaron Rones
Not Yet Rated
0:00
Audiobooks
21
0

Description

This is a short poem that I read in three different characters. One as a normal adult man, one as a young teen, and another as Coach Steve from the animated show Big Mouth.

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)

Accents

North American (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
out of what crypt they crawl. I cannot tell, but every night I see the rubbery things black horned and slender with membrane, its wings. They come in legions on the north wind swell with obscene clutch that titillates and stings snatching me off on monstrous voyages to gray worlds, hidden in nightmares. Well over the jagged peaks of throwback they sweep heedless of all the cries I tried to make, and down another pits, that foul lake, where the puff showed off, splash and doubtful sleep. But ho! If only they would make some sound, or where a face where faces should be found out of what crypt they crawl! I cannot tell. But every night I see the rubbery things black horned and slender with membrane, its wings. They come in legions on the North wind swell with obscene clutch that titillates and stings snatching me off on mont monstrous voyages to the gray worlds, hidden deep in nightmare as well over the jagged peaks of Iraq. They sweep heedless of all the cries I tried to make, and down the nether pits, that foul lake where the puffed show got splash and doubtful sleep. But ho, if only they would make some sound aware of face, where faces should be found out of what crypt across cannot tell. But every night I see the rubbery things black and horned and slender with member and his wings. I don't even know what that word means. They come in legions on the north wind swell, and they got these obscene clutches. That title is his things snatching me off on a monstrous of voyages! They're grey worlds hidden in the nightmare as well. Over the jacket peaks of dark day sweep parts a good view from up there! Heedless of all the cries I tried to make heedless of all the cries I tried to make, and down another pitched in the foul lake with a puff. Sure, got. There's some nice guys in there, splashing, doubtful sleep, but ho, if only didn't make a sound or where a phase where faces should be found.