My feet are set on the outward trails And the call of the roistering sea. My wings are spread on the outbound gales And the paths that are long and f… - Robert E. Howard

"The little poets sing of little things:
Hope, cheer, and faith, small queens and puppet kings;
Lovers who kissed and then were made as one,
And modest flowers waving in the sun.

The mighty poets write in blood and tears
And agony that, flame-like, bites and sears.
They reach their mad blind hands into the night,
To plumb abysses dead to human sight;
To drag from gulfs where lunacy lies curled,
Mad, monstrous nightmare shapes to blast the world.


MUSINGS


[click on the thumbnail by Jack "King" Kirby]"

There is always a way, if the desire be coupled with courage,” answered the Cimmerian

Nay, alone I am a weak creature, having no strength or might in me; yet in times past hath God made me a great vessel of wrath and a sword of deliverance. And I trust, shall do so again.