the eleventh hour no one worthy; the sum total of my search for human life and nada one dear lord 

releasing

i never found my hero (the literary meaning) only the ones with pumpkin carriages. poetic; irony 

The Hardcastle’s pond

 

 

tonight I long for warm arms ….words are stone cold. I am stone cold 

where did all the humans go?

aurore

fetal position. tight; for hours; like a prayer within the quiet cave. the spacepod. it is possible to go through every extreme and never feel any of it. but the scars prove the course with the path of its destruction but never never once ever identify that they are there. they are not there. 

the chamois across the metal. shine. how well it reflects. deflects. the whetted blade put in its scabbard 

slip like robin through the night 

for tomorrow may be another aurore

 Je ne me sens pas en sécurité