Bemused and abashed, I wander through the past; the dream of order and beauty lies in ruins. Look to the light that seeps from the breaches between the fallen fragments.
No Bird Would Brook My Grief in That High Wood
1980 - 2003
Bemused and abashed, I wander through the past; the dream of order and beauty lies in ruins. Look to the light that seeps from the breaches between the fallen fragments.
ENTER THE LABYRINTH