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A slave to time, you and I. A slave to time, indeed. A slave to all the ticking gears that pry, in full, our needs. When do we fight the h..

[b]Two What hope have we in this growing place, More than that of a lonely one? More than just a starving face? A number of our reeking race..

A cycled curse of chilling spite. A wretch'd spell across the land. A blanket of immortal ice. A woeful dust of sparkling sand. When will this d..

Welcome back, you old, grumpy menace, I suppose you’re here to do your deed. But here I warn you, I fight with vengeance against your dasta..

There was once a time, my boys, when your strings were good and brown, And at that time, I always had a smile when I looked down. Your bases..

Mr. Van Gogh, did you smile while you painted seas of shadowy blue? Were you laughing all the while while the strokes were stroking fro and to? ..

‘Twas the middle of an icy night, and the wind was cutting fast, and there he stood, cold and shaking, sipping on his flask. And then he..

With beautiful eyes of snowy white, And hands solid like rock and clay. He began to create the deepest night, And then came soon a beautiful day...

With the old, fuzzy bristles of his goatee pressed softly against the cold metal of the weathered harmonica, the old man prepared to play a so..

Tick, Tock. Grandfather, both tall and strong ticked his tune to his dusty song. He remembered the days of long ago, the days when mice ..