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Sorrow has been broken Sorrow has showed up denied. Death has told its old story Death has told its lie The grave has now no sting We hear the ancient triumph We hear the angelic host still sing The first Light of dawn is shone The weary are refreshed in travail The way is traveled by few But...

Th!nk you!

I prefer a cigar. Sometimes a pipe.

Sick of the world- Its traces in me Weary of the wickedness in my veins The serving of it's wanton lusts The gathering of its broken will Waterless cisterns of modernity Lawyers and brokers of it's incipient ill Tired of striving But my striving is not without gain Longing for the edge of...