tis be a day of a thousand days i have forgtten...
month of blossoming flowers...
year of a grown up oldman..
this place where the spiders have made their home is in need of sweeping.
and sweep it i will.
These are the chronicles, ramblings and thoughts of once a man, now a half-dead. Archived by a nameless observer... Read, rants or curse all you wish - as those are the things that will make him again ... a man.
tis be a day of a thousand days i have forgtten...
month of blossoming flowers...
year of a grown up oldman..
this place where the spiders have made their home is in need of sweeping.
and sweep it i will.