In Edinburgh, I often see,
a Pigeon with a twisted foot.
Is it birth defect or injury?
Or maybe hereditary,
each sighting a different squab
of a long-lived clan
of Edinburghian club-footed pigeon.
"I slept with Faith, and found a corpse in my arms on awaking; I drank and danced all night with Doubt, and found her a virgin in the morning."
~ Crowley
"We should not let ourselves be burnt for our opinions: we are not that sure of them. But perhaps for this: that we may have and change our opinions." ~ Nietzsche
The great black one descended from on high to devour civilization. Instead, however, he spat us out; our core had become too rotten even for the stomach of the destructor.
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