There's no need to utilize

imagination, yet I ask:

'Could you, would you

deign--to banish the other

side of yourself in human

form?'

I apologize gentle reader,

hell is hard at work.

I apologize gentle reader,

hell is hard at work.

Putridly at fullmast,

spilling buckets of black

paint.

Upon torches of leaves,

acting is if they encountered

Autumn for the first time.