Posted on November 8, 2016November 8, 2016 / Poetry End of Days Under the old Moon, Music descends in temples of hysteria, As their stones shatter, The absence of blossoms in the churchyard marks their fate. The grey and cloudy sky and indistinct Sun,[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on November 8, 2016 / Poetry Ten Pills One pill; For my merciless and raging tempest. Two pills; For the voices acknowledged as my own. Three pills; For howling dogs stalking my promenade. Four pills; For forgetting what was to become of me.[....] Read More+10 Tweet Share