True friend of mine,
Hold me deep within your sorrowful bosom...

Tonight is the night of everlasting contempt.
Here, with great fear. I spent a year locked in...

The blood of many lies here in these hills.
The tears of children in this magical land...

Above my head a looming structure.
An ominous figure of our lady grace's discontent...

From the parlor to the parkway,
Peeking purely 'round the causeway...

There are no reinforcements here,
it is just me...

Things are brave,
things are weak...

I write poetry and prose,
to me the mind is no rose...

She was my beauty,
And my beast...