The Pro’s band took a break in between sets, and I sat there looking at the four shot glasses, knowing exactly who I chose but I needed to get them separated so the pressure was off of me. Looking at...

I felt like a homeless in the banquet of life I fed on leftovers Of what angry gods had left.

If my paper would speak,what would it say?Would it push away my pen if I write today?And how would the paper feel? Maybe it would feel oh so special.Because I carved in it words so sweet.Maybe it would fear my...

meandering nightmare come to mewith scepter black and soul so coldentertain the bleak and make it your owndarkness peaks and the light withdrawsdelirium ensues and visions are knownsullen faith culted in its blisswelcomes you my dear, with a kissgreetings...