Neither lit lamp nor prayer replace this dark exhibition of a graveyard. Alas, Guernica, tongues as sharp pieces, sharp shattered shards of broken blades. An eye-shaped bulb does not the red reflect two-fisted grips of death-like hands. Alas, Guernica, hands with monstrous bent, sharps caused by strafing fusillade. Winds of war and arrows blown through…

This content is for Yearly Subscriber and Monthly Subscribers only.
Log In Subscribe Today