Death's Knapsack
Diseasebag
hello people. im an INTP.
-
OK, it's on.
i r noob
- Thread starter Death's Knapsack
- Start date
Artifice Orisit
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Claverhouse
Royalist Freicorps Feldgendarme
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Hi
Your request for a different name can be met as soon as you PM a madmin with your choice of a palatable substitute. Otherwise one will be issued at random.
Should you not have made this request, you may disregard this message since exactly the same will apply.
Claverhouse
Moderating Mode
Your request for a different name can be met as soon as you PM a madmin with your choice of a palatable substitute. Otherwise one will be issued at random.
Should you not have made this request, you may disregard this message since exactly the same will apply.
Claverhouse
Moderating Mode
transformers
Active Member
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Welcome, diseasebag (interesting username choice). I like your avatar.
SEPKA
What???
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Do you still have hope? If you do, I suggest you change name to Pandora's box.
Kidege
is a ze
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You meanie.
Claverhouse
Royalist Freicorps Feldgendarme
- Local time
- Today 6:03 PM
- Joined
- Sep 7, 2007
- Messages
- 1,159
- Location
- Between the Harz and Carpathians
Claverhouse
Royalist Freicorps Feldgendarme
- Local time
- Today 6:03 PM
- Joined
- Sep 7, 2007
- Messages
- 1,159
- Location
- Between the Harz and Carpathians
Come to think of it, perhaps apart from the whole romantic German gothic vibe of the1780s to the 1840s, which may be hoped to strike a chord in us all, I was probably subconsciously influenced by it's splendid English practitioner, my exquisite Beddoes, author of Death's Jest-Book. Think of a less cheerful Andersen gone to poetry with extra-added morbidity...
Yet your vote makes it the choice I shall submit to Ragnar once he's back online.
IF thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then sleep, dear, sleep;
And not a sorrow
Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
Lie still and deep,
Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' the sun to-morrow,
In eastern sky.
But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then die, dear, die;
'Tis deeper, sweeter,
Than on a rose-bank to lie dreaming
With folded eye;
And there alone, amid the beaming
Of Love's stars, thou'lt meet her
In eastern sky.
Claverhouse
Yet your vote makes it the choice I shall submit to Ragnar once he's back online.
IF thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then sleep, dear, sleep;
And not a sorrow
Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
Lie still and deep,
Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' the sun to-morrow,
In eastern sky.
But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then die, dear, die;
'Tis deeper, sweeter,
Than on a rose-bank to lie dreaming
With folded eye;
And there alone, amid the beaming
Of Love's stars, thou'lt meet her
In eastern sky.
Claverhouse