Mine tongue is thine,
to cant philosophy...

There is no morality
to the murder of innocents...

Dare you walk with me
In the dwellings of the dead...

Six signs were given
In days gone passed...

Who cares about some Canadian
kidnapped to Syria from his front door...

[Inspired upon reading Christopher Moore's...
I ponder these single words with paragraph...

Linger longer, dearheart mine,
And warm me with your form...

I am the Shadowwalker,
The walker 'tween worlds...

Mine heart of fire I name thee,
spring rains alchemy of blood...

She is radiant in her research,
copper-framed reading glasses...

Dark tones, brooding in submission,
Clarity of touch, staccato caresses...

I scry you within
your chilled domain...