When I was growing up I was ravenous for knowledge, and random pieces of information that I came across would be next obsession. Every week I was on a whole new topic, a completely...
My hands are traitors
Beasts of pain and failure
Tools of necessity
Rotten through with mediocrity
On you lands the blame
In your hands was the seed
From your life was built the flame
That devoured the world in greed
Just as darkness fuels despair
A man lost is well aware
That he built his binding lair
And his chains are locked by lack of care
An afternoon of opposing hues.
Springtime is full of colors, and even more so after a rainstorm.
As time goes by it becomes harder and harder to trust my senses, to know exactly how and why my body reacts to the world. My interpretation changes by the second and some days...
The first brothers had a certain synergy, largley held up by the tempurate actions of the younger. Always ensuring that his brothers actions would be fruitfull, watching from behind the curtain and pushing the...
Of the two brothers one stood out. He was the louder and more enthusiastic one. As opposed to his counterpart who watched from the background, carefully planning each action. The grander brother rushed through...
There was a time in the past, a time where location was nonsense and the allpowerfull had not yet been forged. In this abstract place when time never changed a spark hotter than any...
All a cascading filter
The made lost defect
Each their own trickster
Trapped by what they deflect