CuCalainne

After Monday and Tuesday, even the calander on my desk says WTF

Outside of a dog, a book is mans best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read


The strength of twice three thousand horse that seek the single goal.
The line that holds the rending course, the hate that swings the whole.
The stripped hulls slinking through the gloom, at gaze and gone again.
The Brides of Death that wait the groom- The Choosers of the Slain!

The strength of twice three thousand horse that serve the one command.
The hand that heaves the headlong force, the hate that backs the hand.
The doombolt in the darkness freed, the mine that splits the main.
The white-hot wake, the 'wildering speed, The Choosers of the Slain!
Kipling