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the Grinder’s Gloves
the Grinder’s gloves are stained with blood are stained with blood and worse
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the Dead River
unstoppable life in its circle did turn we awoke, we grew feeble, we died, we returned forgetting in death all of life we had learned the next day the same and the same on the third
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if I Could Die Afraid
If I could die afraid I would. Death ought be feared, not understood. If I can die afraid I will, and then be sure that Life was real.
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the Edict
in the writing, this we see: the end of all there is to be all there is to be, we know to be but once, and be alone but once alone, we see thee bound thou swear an oath! we write it down!