"The Lemmings

Once in a hundred years the Lemmings come
Westward, in search of food, over the snow,
Westward, until the salt sea drowns them dumb,
Westward, till all are drowned, those Lemmings go.
Once, it is thought, there was a westward land,
(Now drowned) where there was food for those starved things,
And memory of the place has burnt its brand
In the little brains of all the Lemming kings.
Perhaps, long since, there was a land beyond
Westward from death, some city, some calm place,
Where one could taste God's quiet and be fond
With the little beauty of a human face;
But now the land is drowned, yet still we press
Westward, in search, to death, to nothingness."

--John Masefield


Azathoth.

White: singerofsongs (2191)
1. e4 e5
2. Nf3 f5
3. Nxe5 Nc6
4. Qh5+ g6
5. Nxg6 Nf6
6. Qh3 hxg6
7. Qxh8 Qe7
8. Qh4 fxe4
9. Be2 Nd4
10. Kd1 d5
11. f3 Nf5
12. Qf2 Be6
13. d3 c5
14. Nc3 O-O-O
15. Bg5 e3
16. Qe1 Bg7
17. Nb5 a6
18. Na3 Qc7
19. g4 Ne7
20. Qh4 Rh8
21. Qe1 d4
22. c3 Nc6
23. f4 Nxg4
24. h4 Nf2+
25. Kc2 dxc3
26. bxc3 Qa5
27. Nc4 Qa4+
28. Kc1 Bxc4
29. dxc4 Qa3+
30. Kc2 Nxh1
31. Bg4+ Kb8
32. Qxe3 Nb4+
33. Kd1 Qxc3
34. Qxc3 Bxc3
35. Rc1 Bd4
36. f5 Nf2+
0-1

"My death would devastate her, but would the color of the suit and the ferociousness of the explosion contaminate my sacrifice and ruin our grey perfection? Or did the color separate my death from our love and protect our colorlessness?" --Grey


Bluegrass Heritage.