Last Night

A circle of ivory in the sky,
Of strange exciting death,
Of ancient brittle crumbling bones
Shines balefully down on me,
Beside her, as she turns and
Grins and says "This way,"
And with a screaming in my
Ears we leave the known
Behind, leave the familiar,
The safe, going on to secret
And forbidden places.


This piece of web madness created, implemented and maintained by Napoleon.
I like getting mail. Hint, hint.