Latest Works

I breathe the cursed air haunted fog with spectral halos white horse waves roll at my feet tossing dead souls as a sacrifice I tried to...

Upon his departure from his horrible, sinful life, he was not greeted by fire and brimstone. There was not light, there was not the...

Hanging Babylon, fig trees of dream—uncut oasis, liquor of sun. Perfect Babylon: a sceptre, ailing queen, a gospel of hoaxes preachers...