Select Page

Gaia’s Song

The North Wind and the elementals some call sprites are real creatures. They bear their names, given by the imaginations of men with pride, and the task they have, to clean up the stale nothingness, with equal force. Their nature is against ours, if we think we are...

Perchance to Dream

Have I ever written a decent word late at night? A poem penned then only holds the melancholy of darkness. Lies ahead just the black balm of sleep. Should I awaken and plunge, Keats-like into Remorse and the Plague of thought-like-Regrets? No-one knowingly wrote well...