I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Alas!  I may have been surceased the perception of silence ( Read more... )

Wandering through burnt fields in winter
the ashen grain enshrouded in white
death masqued in solstice's white
lingering sadness imprisioned in crystal white

A saintly angel plucks a lyre
whilst wandering through brumal blight
vangrant fallen, transient through the night
wings crippled and tattered: surely such a wretched sight

As I arose from my subterranian tomb for my nightly hunting I was accosted by a group of Moors on a raucous constitutional.  They were casting some sort of somatic spells with their hands in between flashing their pistols and barking like dogs at me.  Something about their hood, but I noticed narry a one actually had a cowl.  At first glance I took ( Read more... )

Miseriecord thrust between harlot's ribs ( Read more... )

A Mirror shattered ( Read more... )

Vines of ivy dead and dying ( Read more... )

Can you believe this?

I AM ENRAGED.
Perfection can not be reinvented.  Woe, Hollywood.  Woe. 
WOE I say!  This calls for an eve of strong drink.

I am quite confused by this bizarre technology entitled MIDI sequencing.  Indeed it confounds and infuriates me to no end!  A lovely darkling must stroll about and help the kind old Duke out with a tutorial ( Read more... )

Drifting in pale ( Read more... )

My Children ( Read more... )