
A collection of nihilist poems.
Buy it.
Or don’t.
It’s up to you.
A collection of nihilist poems.
Buy it.
Or don’t.
It’s up to you.
The maelstrom is growing, ever seething ever throwing,
And the winds of chaos blowing from the storm outside your door,
The fires are still burning and the children slowly learning
That the wheels are ever turning of the chariots of war. Continue reading