Ah, unfortunate men, what horror is this that has happened? Shrouded in night are faces and heads. To the knees it descendeth. See, too, crowded with ghosts is the porch, and crowded the court, Hurrying down the darkness of Erebus.

O, the Lord of Law on the Throne of Thought, A gilded Monarch is he. Of shreds and patches his robes are wrought, His crown is brass.

And those that have three times kept to their oaths, Keeping their souls clean and pure, Never letting their hearts be defiled by the taint Of evil and injustice, And barbaric veniality, They are led by Zeus to the end: To the palace of Kronos, Where soothing breezes off the Ocean breathe over the Isle of the Blessed

Down the dank mouldering paths and past the Ocean's streams they went and past the White Rock and the Sun's Western Gates and past the Land of Dreams, and soon they reached the meadows of Asphodel where the dead, the burnt-out wraiths of mortals make their home

"You are like the rocks on the seashore that unflinchingly face the beating of the waves. The rock does not move; the wave will not stop. This predicament should end."


~Original Drabbles~

The river is quiet and cold,
But holds many stories left untold

~Fanfiction Drabbles~

“We are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name.”

~Original Short Stories~

“A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.”

~Original Novel Length Fiction~

At the bottom of modern man there is always a great thirst for self-forgetfulness, self-distraction; and therefore he turns away from all those problems and abysses which might recall to him his own nothingness.

~Unsorted Junk~