It is time for a great celebration! Inside the grand hall the illustrious ball is in full-fledged effect, as eminent ladies dressed in fishnet bow and pass beneath the alabaster arches. The noble assembly all coupled en masse dance and sway to lovelorn serenades and gay-stride minuets. Ma Cher, Ma Cherie, Where is thy silhouette? Across the checkered squares we met, locked in a gaze of mutual ...
It’s hot as hell, but hotter still the fiery sun and scorching sand that beat and blaze above and below to burn the backs of better men, of men laid low in steely Iraq or unsung heroes West of Tehran. The bursting flames of combative battlefields make cowards brave and gods of men, and fleeting bullets through blood-sullied hills sing of nations saved or ideas defended through graveyards paved with epithets of ...
I In ancient times, in an ancient city set upon a hill aside the darkened sea resided a youth, more delicate and pretty than any maid or woman be. Fairer than the sun, whose envious eyes cast glances through gilded shrubbery, but naïve in thought, he longed for battle to meet his enemy. Though born from man was no man who bore him, but Beauty from Love’s hard labored night, admist her ...
In the Rue Morgue: Reversible #7 Blow winds—icy; clear and cold. Moon full. Fearful howling, slinking shadow. Alley dark. Mortal wounds, torn flesh; blood oozes drop by drop. Gasping, spirit departs. Hideous visage laughing silently, shadows dark ; concealing all. Grim stalker leaves… Leaves stalker. Grim all concealing dark shadows. Silently laughing, visage hideous; departs spirit, gasping. ...
COLORS #2 Crimson is the color of my rage, boiling from red-hot to the depths of icy cold, by far the more dangerous of the two. Fueled by hurt feelings, encouraged by aggravation, tempered in pain; the anger burns out-of-control, causing fear to bubble up inside. It always leaves me empty and lonely. Frost is the color of the lonely. They are an ice-capped mountain, licked by flames of rage; pitted here and there by ...