These words I cry do not come easily; as if they echo from the cold stone depths of a long forgotten tomb.

“Don’t say anything!” spoke the shadow in the doorway. I was seven years of age. I lay limp upon the couch, still recovering from

I see no reason now to disguise this naked heart and soul of mine. You can hide there

Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.

I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;

A sudden gust of bitter wind from somewhere hot and foul, whooped and howled throughout the scattered waste and scrabble down that God-forsaken alley.

These words, gently laid upon this page, amount to my sincere prayer they reach within you, and touch your secret self,

I am seven years old. My brother is ten. The beating was brutal. My brother is recovering conscious… I believed he was dead.

I am here now. I have removed my outer garments, placed my trust within your circle… I have come because you promised. You told me you would be here

Here he comes again, riding tall upon his hellish steed… Dead eyes red, charging straight towards me. No joy in that demonic laugh,

Why are you here ? Where did you come from ? Why have i been cursed with one so radiant and true ? There’s no time for your curious m…

There’s a furious raging mob out beyond the temple walls; howling with a lust for murder of the next contender for their cr… It's more to do with feral instinc…