I brimmed mine with wine
but only your empty glass...

Do these paintings on the walls make your prison...
Do these echoes of your voice calm your...

They would not let God
into His own house...

Is it a wander that I don't feel anything but...
I wonder...

Inhale,
life whispers...

Alas my dear
I am still the Ozymandias...

Was I ever P like a penguin, living in icy...
or free like the D...

The penumbra of Illumination.
The echo of birds’ footsteps in silence...

He wanted to be clear
but clarity turns to blank and one must die...

You complete me so
because I am nothing and...

"I invite you all
to the fire," said the hero...

Somewhere in distance
boundaries would bind together...