Oct 1997

Oct 1
Non Possum Sperare

You cannot hope, foolish boy with mad dreams
seeking to break the Wheel of Time
and steal the scythe of Death

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Oct 8
The Tentacles of God

The rain trickles down; drizzle patters against the asphalt and the concrete

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Oct 9
Drown My Sorrow

Half a bottle now empty, the rain is trickling, I can hear it
pattering on the windowpane. I swear the wind wants to shatter it
open, crack it into a million pieces like my tormented heart. I don't
even know where to begin, find a soft, still quiet place to rest, to
hide from this wracking wretchedness. Oh how I wish I had never been
born, though it is useless to rail against Fate, the best I can do is
take another swig and hope for the best. Oh, but to win, once, to
wear the laurel crown, stand the tallest on the pedestal, to have that
one sweet moment in time.

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