Comfort of Darkness

When night falls, a prophet roams the streets And all who hear his voice close their doors, shutter their windows— Barricade against the call to arms The challenge of a mind that sees beyond the wall.

A Sunken World

Come wayward to this place without sorrow On a borderland between love and apathy We know you are lost—all who come here are lost And stay when they no longer wish to be found.

Blog at

Up ↑