Anger Is A Wound Gone Mad.

Looking Up And Out, How Can We Not Respect This Ever-vigilant Cognizance That Distinguishes Us: The Capability To Envision, To Dream, And To Invent? The Ability To Ponder Ourselves? And Be Aware Of Our Existence On The Outer Arm Of A Spiral Galaxy In An Immeasurable Ocean Of Stars? Cognizance Is Our Crest.

Poetry Isn't An Activity, It's A Way Life Is Lived.

Apart From Love, Which Is Not A Human Emotion, Of All The Rest My Last Words Would Best Read: It's All For The Experience.

There Is Direct Correlation Between A Society Lacking In Artistic Vision To Lack Of Social Conscience, I.e., Crime, Poverty, And Senseless, Violent Atrocities, Materialism.

Events, Time, Forms, All Propel The Inner Plot Within Each Of Us.