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to the world a black balloon



Booksie Address: http://www.booksie.com/to_the_world_a_black_balloon
Country: United States
Favorite book: Night Shift by Stephen King
Member Since: Jun 27, 2008

Featured Writing

to_the_world_a_black_balloon

If you were me, could you defend the given rights to all of men?

A Short Story by to the world a black balloon
Posted: Jul 19, 2008
Beauty is but a flower Which wrinkles will devour; ...

to_the_world_a_black_balloon

All Inhale the Downward Spiral

A Short Story by to the world a black balloon
Posted: Jun 27, 2008
Another brick in the living shadow All inhale the...

Writing Portfolio

to_the_world_a_black_balloon

If you were me, could you defend the given rights to all of men?

A Short Story by to the world a black balloon
Posted: Jul 19, 2008
Beauty is but a flower Which wrinkles will devour; ...

to_the_world_a_black_balloon

All Inhale the Downward Spiral

A Short Story by to the world a black balloon
Posted: Jun 27, 2008
Another brick in the living shadow All inhale the...



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The Conqueror Worm

LO! 't is a gala night Within the lonesome latter years. An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre to see
A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly; Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their condor wings Invisible Woe. That motley drama—oh, be sure It shall not be forgot! With its Phantom chased for evermore By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot; And much of Madness, and more of Sin, And Horror the soul of the plot. But see amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude: A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes—it writhes!—with mortal pangs The mimes become its food,
And over each quivering form In human gore imbued. Out—out are the lights—out all! And over each quivering form The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero, the Conqueror Worm



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