Empire of Whimsy

Three years of ridding myself of my rage left me bellaputrescent and old for my age. I appear to you now as a mere wizened spectre; A wr...

Let me with thoughts just silent be And smoke this rollie; 43. I have no urgent place to go, I’m not alone. I have my Woe. She dances o...

How dare the Sunshine show his face, When with illusory Autumn Summer’s replaced And offers only cold embrace To those who crave his warmth ...