Morgoth Bauglir: A day in the life of a Dark Lord

WWCD? (What Would Cthulhu Do?) No, for the last time, I'm not a cultist!

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

I am feeling artistic right now. Here's a poem:

The forest burns.
Red and orange flames lick the limbs
before falling to the ground,
leaving behind only skeletal branches.
The ugly truth underneath the brilliant surface
remains even after the leaves have fallen.
All wonder that once existed vanishes
with the quickening frost.
~Will McCollough

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