I'm All Soils West When The Earth

Here Then At Long Last Is My Darkness. No Cry Of Light, No Glimmer, Not Even The Faintest Shard Of Hope To Break Free Across The Hold.

I Will Walk Heavy, And I Will Walk Strange.

I'm All Soils West When The Earth Lets Go. I'm A Thousand Julys.

Some People Reflect Light, Some Deflect It, You By Some Miracle, Seem To Collect It.

Make No Mistake, Those Who Write Long Books Have Nothing To Say. Of Course Those Who Write Short Books Have Even Less To Say.