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Jeff
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my desktop
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chaotic convergence
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city at night
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rainbow
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rosette psychedelic discharge
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beyond event horizon
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dark storm
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coffee cup on tray
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whirl wind
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painted shelf
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yin and yang
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a perfect drop
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leafhopper on dusty miller
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cat posing
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House Vey
~House Vey~ I was working as a tax agent for the British government in the Year of Our Lord 1999.  It was then that my supervisor approached me regarding the matter of House Vey. ``It has come to my attention,'' he said, ``that there is a real estate that has been evading tax law for centuries.  It isn't on land-survey maps and has only come to my attention due to its recent acquisition of materials from certain sources.'' He handed me a file that described several transactions in metals and rare minerals by a House of Vey, location given. ``I want you to go down there,'' he continued, ``And make the books square.'' So I did what
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reflections
sparks on the water sparks into the wind mirrors facing in darkness
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a dead twig
a lone brittle twig longs to be snapped in the wind there is not a breeze
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cycle
Fox eyes shine A glimpse into the dark Pools reflect sparks unseen Memories distant of closeness and melding Through the veil of time Are you calling for me? Wind rattles the leaves, Pulls the dark cloak about the sky, Stars and moon dissolve into black velvet. Wet dew blankets the forest, joining life with mist's night chill. Lightning cracks the atmosphere Awoken drenched in icy sweat and saguine warmth. A mirror shines amidst nothingness -- a window to the world outside, or self-reflecting infinite oblivion? Ensconced in darkness, a pale flame smeared with ink. Glass shattering on the floor, falling deep in water, p
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Autumn Snow
will anyone wish to share my heart before the icy death of winter? it is already late to wonder it is autumn and have i just felt the first snowflakes fall upon my brow?
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untitled :-faith and love?-:
searching is pointless fate shall bequeth you true love just open your eyes
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The City
The City Elektra and time-twister, hear my distant cry out of past beneath Apocalypse waste sand of a land which almost died of spirit-traps and ancient vampires transmogrifying life to bitterness. Of a world where precious love is sold for plastic and piss. The streets flow with human flesh, churning in black ichor oil drowning in sludge, choking on burning rags Some of our brightest work in the streets - paladins covered in filth, sifting through garbage for lost love lights - healers and caretakers of refugees cast as defects from towering factory mechanical spires The City burns a crown of a billion lights, each a bri
stained glass
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oil sky
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smeared glass
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anonymous's avatar
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