Her Demons
I Shalt Become
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It's left to parch...a thirsting man pleads,
(As promises of rain disappear)
His desiccated skin withers...
Your life means nothing to me...
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- Our Children Die
- Paintings In A Gallery
- The Casket Letters
- The Corpse In The Forest
- No Quarter At the Somme
- Like a Lamb to the Slaughter...
- Insects
- Labyrinthine
- Leaving Watership Down
- The Finest Cut of the Scalpel
- The Funeral Rain
- Thorns
- Want
- Winter Lights
- These Cold Desires
- The Tragedie Of Macbeth: Actus Quintus, Scena Quinta
- The Lost Man
- The Serpent Song
- The Swarming of the Locusts
- In The Falling Snow
