Desolate moon, how I longto wander through your greyemptiness, on untrodden tracksTo lose myself on a clearstarry night, following…
Everything begins to spin around and, suddenly, the void.
“Why isn’t my baby crying? He’s just grunting,” screamed Darla.
The midwife whisked little Timothy to a table in the delivery room for a closer examination.
“He was stuck in the birth canal for quite awhile. The doctor will be right in to examine…
Take me awayfrom all things smart,for I no longer overstandthe things you say northe way you mean.