My father was slaughtered by a chastened cruel...
Wounded weary mother succumbing to her final...

Sixteen years to attain some
true measure of freedom...

Mine tongue is thine,
to cant philosophy...

There is no morality
to the murder of innocents...

Who cares about some Canadian
kidnapped to Syria from his front door...

[Inspired upon reading Christopher Moore's...
I ponder these single words with paragraph...

She is radiant in her research,
copper-framed reading glasses...

Linger longer, dearheart mine,
And warm me with your form...

Dark tones, brooding in submission,
Clarity of touch, staccato caresses...

I am the Shadowwalker,
The walker 'tween worlds...

I scry you within
your chilled domain...

Mine heart of fire I name thee,
spring rains alchemy of blood...