Will I remain in the shadows of the unknown? Where my real self dwells in excruciating shedding Familiar voices suggest I have overgrown Yet my intentions appear interesting Lost in the middle Just like the crusaders conflict 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries That deposited worries in sizeable sanctuaries My paintings have become drab pictures...
Shall we again plunge into the muddy waters of creation, And bathe our souls in the witty spell of the Ancient of Days? Wherein the gallant adder camps like a platoon in a faraway nation? The shepherd’s sheep now munch stones, they seldom graze. Shall we again bask in the tomb of utopian tenderness,...
Mankind, with His blood, He insured The turns of the thorns in his palms He endured With vinegar His thirst soon quenched His garment, a bloodied tatter, drenched Enshrouded in the tomb of disdain Roman kinsmen rejoiced at the savior’s pain Chimes and noisemaking, wines and merrymaking They ate and drank with voracious craving His...
He took a last squint into his binoculars, rubbed his eyes, and heaved a heavy sigh of exasperation, as he lowered his McMillan TAC-338A rifle onto the dusty, red earth. He frantically dug into his tactical vest, pulled out a bayonet, and expertly buried the 4-inch steel in the head of a rough earth snake...