When the warring of the day is done,
A piece of land helter-skelter is won.
But who cares for the doomfire dead,
who lay on unvanquished fields, unavenged.
The scars and signs of tumultous war,
Surpasses the craters of the moon by far.
When, oh when, will this tragedy end?
Methinks, when Apocalypse shall upon humanity descend.

A pretty old poem that I wrote when they bombed the shit out of Baghdad in 2003-4. Hope you like!

I'm finding it really, really hard to digest that my fanfic actually seems to have been rejected as a FW. A year and a half of hard and earnest effort has been destroyed to bits, and I find myself plunging into the old Blues again. God, I was doing so well too.

Well, anyway, I guess I'll just keep it up for a few more days. If there's no positive response, then I'll delete the WORLD. And swear never to write fanfics again. I can't take this bullshit anymore.