*/ He thought often and fondly of his childhood. He remembered the pleasure it had given him to walk around his grandparents’ garden, to pass through...
Let the fire in the liquor burn the borders of the world away And the beating of the music shake the crumbling walls Let the rising smoke carry with...
With one last sweeping look around the room The lights go out and hide the gaze the sterness of which still pervades in the thick but thinning gloom...