Half-living in your gaze a prisoner of messed― up life in a petri dish. Streaking in blood and salt your inoculation failed. Now a missed abortion, takes place. You cannot defend your freedom, before the ruthless destiny. The courage versus
Abdicating the shadows; totemic. I return back to dig up the buried- moon from the ruins of poetry. It benumbs. No response was coming from cajoling the black secrets- of time-cast. A storm was raging in a pack of emptiness.
Prevaricated Forth Write Declaration! As most every girl and boy taught back in the day, or more recently going to Zerns, a golden age of story telling, when rapt listening ears willingly leant eager attention to a riveting speaker such
Men rise, men die but a few live on in eternity, There are kings, there are mortals and there are those who are immortals but a few are engraved in the silhouettes of history. There was a lion who once