( via / me )

Solar Megalomania.

"Winter, Old Style (Rhupunt)

Keen is the wind,
Barren the land.
A man could stand
On a single stalk.

Cattle are lean,
Ther stag is thin,
All color wan
On the frozen lake.

Idle the shield
On an old man's shoulder.
Halls are cold.
i have a wound.

Where warriors go
I cannot follow
Through flying snow
In this wild wind.

The trees are bowed
In the bare wood;
There is no shade
In any vale.

The reeds are dry
And a loud crying
Howls outside
With inward war.

So an old man
Does what he can,
Stares through the pane
At night's black square."

--Rolfe Humphries

"...Never fall dreaming on celestials."

"The enemies of myth are not the friends of reality but of triviality."

— Nicolás Gómez Dávila via @Isidro_Li

Flower in glass & its shadow on the wall.