For the love of screaming angels,
My computer lies on
A quiet death bed
The irrational irritation The steadfast stress
And for the end in Death it waits
With cold coughing sounds
And a hateful embrace to which one Cannot
Avoid for all their wants and dreams
For the love of singing angels,
Why hath the cruelties of all this world
Caused now such a dreadful thing
Mugged still a quiet innocence
To the writer whose heart belongs
Nothing more Nothing more

I had to write out my convictions in poet form for one reason or another. Anyways, my computer decided to die on me, so now I have to send it in for a few days if not more. I'm currently using my mom's PC, but she only lets me on it at certain times of the day (and small amounts of time I might add). In the end, all this means is that I will be somewhat slow on my replies to various posts and writing areas. Please forgive me for the wait and things.

KC