Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within

Here he comes again, riding tall upon his hellish steed… Dead eyes red, charging straight towards me. No joy in that demonic laugh,

A subtle movement, a facial expression, a particular posture, the constant hint of danger; as if he were here again,

The old priest gazes out upon his… each head bowed before the sacred… A scarred and broken bodied warrio… seeking inner peace and final abso… An elderly wealthy man of commerce…

He’s been around the block and even toured the world, with scars upon scars to show from many a hard-fought battle. Yet like many old dogs

My father has come to dinner; He does not knock. He is not welcome. He is dead. Yet he insists on joining me

Ideas and notions, they’re all for the dreamers, worth as much or less than one's considered opinion. You can’t even wrap fish in them.

I gaze down now upon the cracked and battered shell of the fearsome fiery dragon that once held me in her sway. It’s remarkable just how frail

I see no reason now to disguise this naked heart and soul of mine. You can hide there

I saw him for the first time ever; the one who stole my soul away. He appeared in a dream. I had never seem him before, yet no doubt it was him.

Been wasting away in this hovel for too many days to count; wishing, hoping, scheming, sometimes even praying, for any way to get out.