Pe0msIncidentally, I'll have to reupload "The Bishop and the Tsar", because it's not in storage, apparently. Ah well.
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AD3: Authentic FictionMy dreams alter a lot, though I suppose it's true of anyone's. I learn "facts" in dreams that just plain aren't true in the real world. I witness events that could never have happened. Sometimes, I'm a different person in my dreams - I may look the same, but I'm not me. I'm not myself. I'm not who I once was.AD3: Authentic Fiction
This stairway never existed. I have to keep telling myself that, but I can see it, clear as day in front of me. I know it's not supposed to be there, but it is. I struggle to maintain my disbelief, but some torrent of acceptance tears down what small barricades I can build. Something in the scenario, I think. Wha
by ~Machinations
The Bishop and The TsarThe Bishop and the TsarThe Bishop and The Tsar
I: Tsar
And so with panes of glass and cold white stone, We start to build the Winter Palace walls; For you shall sit upon the icy throne
As snow begins to crystallize the halls. The January God precipitates,
His howling song brings siege upon the Square;
But, in the palace, the misty warring states Will not be felt, for warmth alone rules there. And so we struggle, faces to the gale, And so we build, our hands against the cold; Until the bastion against the hail Is birthed from glass and stone, as was foretold. &n
by ~Machinations
Timaeus Recalls AhasuerusWhen will come the moment When you collapse and start to weep? When will come the fragment Of doubt for all the hope you keep? When will roads become more clement From roads more rocky, dark and steep? When will vigilance stop its ferment And let you fall in march to sleep?Timaeus Recalls Ahasuerus
None of this will come to pass; You have strength, and fate is true. Though crosses borne are burdens, The wait’s the thing that kills you. But I have heard the sermons, And I have read the Word: I pull the nails out from your palms And you recite the twenty-third.
by ~Machinations
FtS: Six MirrorsFor each of us, six mirrors, On August’s final day. For each of us to see ourselves In others on display. For each of us, a stanza, Each dramatis personae - Every act and every scene From birth until today.FtS: Six Mirrors
The first of us, the rebel, The pride to sing our souls; To race the sun to tail of the night, Decked in blood and gold. The next of us, the cynic, The chisel and the word, Though spinning still and out of sight The sharp end’s always heard. Following, the libertine, Botticelli’s heir; We slash the threads of others, And
by ~Machinations
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- Interests: Concept Art, RPGs, the occult
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- Favourite artist: Leonardo Manco, Marcello Frusin
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