These guys are like family to me.

Don't go down too far, and don't fall in, but push your way into the castle, breaking through, like a storm in the night, trees tumble, the ways of nature warped.

A side of myself.

The last battle.

War cry a sound of a blood hound, creeps like a hissing snake across a foggy valley, like a screech from a netherworld, grim as black roses being cut, deadly screams, heart racing, it hurts just to hear it, like a banshee on crack cocaine.

Dancing over dead bodies can't be done, stop this, it is from another time, it is a dead art, or ready to die, just give up this war soon, finish it, say goodbye to this, this "War"

Every day I peel an orange in my imagination.

And the strip tease begins when I ask for it.

1945 is not 2025.

Guns can do, but not just Guns in this 21st century.