"Ahem, elixir for the dry throat / Tried to hit the high note, Villain since a itsy bitsy zygote."
Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred. ~Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Make all your last demands for I will forsake you and I'll meet your eyes for the very first time, for the very last.
maynard <ibis>: they are awkward and last 2 damn long. I prefer thinner smaller ones
Through the darkness of futures past,
The magician longs to see
One chants out between two worlds:
Fire, walk with me.
I hit Brett right in the feels.