In a sense there is a storm passing over the world, and as it gathers it illicits a cry in its wake.

I light a candle, sheltered as I am, beside my window sill.

Perhaps when it burns down the storm will break.

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- - 2006-05-29
- - 2006-05-01
on The Ineffable - 2006-03-27
on being a matyr - 2006-03-23
- - 2006-03-17