In a large dark cave lived one called Goblin, And he enjoyed it, for he was alone. When one bright day, with a skip-and-a jump, Came wandering in the one called Gnome. Gnome liked the cave much, and with a shove of his thumb, Told goblin he’d best soon be leavin’. Goblin gave a great sneer, bearing his yellow-brown teeth, And a very wicked stick started heavin’. The stick was…
The two combatants slowly circled, One named Ogre, one named Orc. All around the land fairly whirled, And they swung their weapons with incredible torque. Ogre swung, caused Orc to dodge, And Ogre’s club went whistling by. Then Ogre’s club in a tree did lodge When an arrow went flying by. It missed completely that arrow sure did, But really caused Orc to frown. So then did Orc’s massive hammer…
N A T I O N AS A CHILD WAS I TAUGHT, THE FLAG: WHITE, FOR THE HONOR OF OUR MEN; BLUE, FOR THEIR COURAGE; RED, FOR THE BLOOD THAT WAS SPILT. WHY? THESE LESSONS, WHAT DO THEY MEAN TO OUR COUNTRY NOW? I CANNOT SEE ANY OF THIS… …EXCEPT BLOOD. DOG EATS DOG. WHY DO I EVEN TRY TO DO ANY RIGHT? BECAUSE…I CANNOT STAND THE LIES.
[Decay] It is all that surrounds me, and even myself which continues to deteriorate as time passes ever on. Hour upon hour, though I have no means by which to count them, pass, and the stench of [Mildew] has long since become a constant to my senses. Reverberating echoes from the dripping [Water] are merely unconscious noises in my ears, the moans and cries of the tortured un-noticed. There is…
I can see them through the leaves, the dancers, their bodies thrashing wildly to the congas. The burning fire throws their shadows twisting and jumping along the ground in an illuminated ring of red and yellow light. I sit in the dark watching, my light being that of the full moon. Tsetse flies buzz around me in the warm air, adding to the sounds of the jungle. The congas continue,…
The sky is black. The sun has set, leaving the smog to accompany the air. The summer heat melds into everything, suffocating it all in torturous agony. Lang smiles, gazing into the starless, moon less sky, seeing only beauty in the stinking darkness. Beads of sweat roll down his face, causing it to glisten in the weak light of a street lamp far below. Looking down, Lang laughs, seeing humor…
All lights in the small house are off. The glow of the television illuminate the small living room, sending shadows flickering into every corner. Lang sits, watching the black and white screen with an intense gaze of incomprehension. Occasionally a smile will twist his face, revealing his teeth in a menacing, almost snarl-like fashion. Blackened by Hutchinson’s disease, his teeth only ass to the demonic appearance of his face. His…