Hello.
I could not think of what to write.
They crashed the glass; we screamed at them to stop,
The lovely bones upon the shelf
The fires of the night glitter in your eye
It is night, and I am awake.
In the land of Tir na nOg
Interrobang me
Me! Me! Me!
This town's a fickle dame...
Eyes like obsidian pierce with a glance.
Nighttime
Dare the dawn on silvered wings
Idle hands the watchman grows when hours long and fragile spread.
You told them all my presence there was death,
She's the type that drinks your coffee with this sneer that says she could brew a better batch
Come with me to a quiet place
Step one, turn on the oven.
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