He who lives in fear gives way to shadows Certain of the doom laid out for him by the stars A patchwork tapestry of fraying ends and holes torn away The words once whispered to him in the deep of night...
Two Prisoners
Nobody Read the Script
The breaking point was passed long ago Yet here we are pushing, surprised at the resistance Mad as hell, yet still taking it and more.
There May Be Something to This Writing Thing After All
Is it strange that we living beingsSearch for meaning on silver screens?Or that we scan ink spots printed neatly on paperTo find the truth of our existence?Until I wrote these questions, I didn’t know.Now, my answer is no.Each one of us contains some piece of the truth.Small or large, dim or bright, quiet or deafeningThe... Continue Reading →
