1. Prelude To The Prelude:
He thrives in chaos. He thrives. He thrives.
“Same old demons, hello. I’ve slain this balrug before,
I’ll slay it again.” He chimes.
The dead gardener, having said good bye to the company of the gimlet consumed,
Lets out an exasperated smile– a weary that doesn’t reach
The eyes of the unproductive dream-killers as it does their feet–
The feel of their ankles that are stone-cold like more forks in the righteous road–
Only that the roads are cunning– Only that the roads are different.
The roads are ever such revisionists. So be everything tha ...Read more
Anarchy of the mind.
I wrote some welcome-to-my-blog remarks, which you can read here.