Rime of the ancient pulp maker
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Bhadrox! (sigh!)
A dangerous mind faintly lingers on... raconteurs, confesses, ridicules, accepts, argues, accedes, reaches out, shrinks within, may or may not be heard.... but stays put. i hope these are just confessions......
1 Comments:
hats off!
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