[tabby title="Poem"] His eyes died firstOur father'sThey have lost their hues of warships blue,Surrendered to dim gray marshlands of what's dueWearing the same suit he goes to work,Talks to himself at breakfast not with me or about youA murmur through...

[tabby title="Poem"] Lyra my love,  hath thou no mercy? For death suits the forgiven, thou hast forgotten A wrathful plague harvests mine soul Into darkness deep whilst a ghoul crawls From my nostrils a pitch black fog to eternity falls Disenchanted...